


Black coffee, with sugar

by JemDoe



Series: Sugar [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Angst, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-10-09 04:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 51,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10403571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemDoe/pseuds/JemDoe
Summary: Daphne woke up to the smell of coffee, which was unusual, all things considered. Mostly because she didn't drink coffee.





	1. Chapter 1

Daphne woke up to the smell of coffee, which was unusual, all things considered. Mostly because she didn't drink coffee - she had always been the diligent tea drinker.

She scrunched her nose up in disgust, throwing her covers off her bed; it’s burnt coffee, to top it off, and she knows exactly one person who can burn coffee. When she ends her march to the kitchen, Daphne finds Harry, trying to work out her coffee machine.

“Unless I’m sorely mistaken, Harry, your house isn’t here.”, she said, crossing her arms. Harry simply looked up, green eyes looking at her like he worshiped her at a temple. Of course.

They had dated - after the war, between debris cleaning and classes for their eighth year, they had been able to know each other very well - and had broken up as soon as Harry had gotten a job as an Auror, as soon as Daphne had started working for the Unspeakables, as soon as Daphne became pregnant and never told him because... She didn’t have a good reason. Maybe she was afraid he’d break up with her, maybe she was afraid he’d think she was trying to get her hands on the Potter fortune. In a way, she still loved him, but Daphne knew, in her heart, he didn’t love her back. Not anymore, at least, not with the gold ring glinting on his finger.

Harry, however, appeared like a ghost on her flat early mornings, to drink her coffee, claiming that only Daphne knew how to make coffee the way he liked. She always wanted to ask what his wife thought of that opinion of his.

“The coffee machine is, although,”, he said, a smile playing on his lips. He was sitting on her counter, the bitter smell of coffee pungent, and by Merlin, how she wished she could wipe that smile out of his face. She hated when he did that, because it made Daphne’s frozen heart and facade melt. “Can you do it? Yours is always the best, you know.”

Daphne sighed, but she moved over, angrily cleaning the machine with a spell.

“Did you burn it to wake me up?”, she asked, in a hiss, and the lazy smile in Harry’s face makes her blood boil. The spell took a while to work thoroughly in the muggle machine, to fully get rid of the remnants of burnt coffee, and how Daphne wished it worked similarly on her heart. “We both know how much of a pain in the ass it is to clean this.”

“I’m still not sure why you bought it,”, he said, and she sent a mild stinging hex to him. “Ouch.”

“Shut up.”, Daphne turned to the now clean machine, angrily levitating the coffee grounds off its place, a carefully made aguamenti providing the water.  “I bought it to see if you could make your own goddamn coffee for once.”

Harry smiled, and Daphne glared at him. He had a family - a wife, two kids and a third to come - and yet, here he was, an hour before his shift, sitting on her marble countertop, looking like a model in a muggle magazine in his white well pressed shirt and slacks, black hair messy and green eyes shining under those thin-rimmed glasses of his. Daphne, way too conscious of her terribly old pajamas, curly dark hair in a bun and bags under her eyes stepped a bit far from him.

“Instead, I burnt coffee. Every day.”, he seemed way too smug about this.”But I always made pancakes to compensate.”

Daphne laughed - yes, he did. She always had woken up with the smell of burnt coffee and fresh pancakes - and looked at him, the memories flooding her mind. Daphne missed him, in the same way one missed their want on their hand, comforting and familiar. They had broken up for a reason, however.

“Instead, now you just break and enter into my house to burn my coffee. What an upstanding Auror,”, she said, picking up his mug - he had brought it once, during these odd encounters, and it had never left her house since then - and pouring some to him. “You know where the sugar is.”

“I sure do,”, he hummed, going through her cabinets for a moment. Daphne eyes him carefully, watching Harry as carefully as she did one of her test subjects. He still moved nimbly, like he was afraid every step would be the one who’d give away his location to the Dark Lord. Daphne watched him, bringing her own mug over and deciding to drink coffee for once. Tea could always wait until tomorrow.

It’d be nice to have Harry back into her life, to relive what they used to be. To give her daughter a father. She sipped at her coffee, casting a time spell quietly, glad her daughter wasn’t an early bird.

“I miss you,”, he said, over the rim of his mug, and Daphne stared at him, incredulous. “I’m serious.”

“I’m sure your wife - Ginevra Weasley, isn’t she? - would love to hear about this.”, she told him. Harry’s face became sour, and Daphne set the mug on the counter. “Don’t you have work to do?”

Harry finished his coffee, leaving his mug behind.

“Sure.”, he answered, getting off his place on her counter and passing by her, stopping for one moment to grab her hand. He kissed her, and Daphne allowed it, passing a hand through his ever-messy black hair, closing her eyes. When it was over, Daphne kept her eyes closed until she heard the all too familiar sound of the door closing behind him, the smell of burnt coffee overpowering her senses as Daphne slid down to the cold tile floor, breathing slowly while staring at the spot Harry had been, where he always was. She wasn’t sure how he had never caught on to the fact he had a daughter, but Harry had always been clueless, and it worked in her favour.

Daphne only moved when she heard her daughter stirred on her room, moving things as silently as possible, and when she arrived in the kitchen, black hair messy and untamable and familiar green eyes filled with sleep, breakfast was ready, and the smell of burnt coffee was gone, just like Harry’s presence, for now.

“Mom?”, her daughter asked, sleepily. She was six, and her coloring would raise some eyebrows when she went to Hogwarts, but Daphne could always buy people’s silence. “I heard someone talking…?”

Daphne smiled, putting a pile of pancakes on a plate. Hers were never as good as Harry’s.

“It was just a dream, Lilian. No one was here,”, she said, humming. Daphne wasn’t sure who she was speaking with - her daughter, or herself -, as she picked up another mug of coffee for herself.


	2. Chapter 2

When Harry appeared the following morning, he looked like he had never gone home, his hair messier than usual, his shirt undone and scruffed with dirt, and he kept trying to man the goddamn coffee machine. Merlin, Daphne should just get rid of it for once and save her the bother.

“You’re doing it wrong,”, she told him. “Move.”

“You’re the boss, ma’am.”, he smiled, and she gave him a stealthy look. He seemed defeated - the telltale slump of his shoulders told Daphne all she needed to know -, and Daphne made his coffee. On the upside, she had caught him before he burnt the coffee at all.

“What happened?”, she asked, over the buzzing sound of the machine heating its old, groaning engine. Harry sat on her counter, and Daphne stood by his side, keeping an eye on the old machine, a spell bringing his mug to her.

Harry stayed silent for a second, and Daphne could see the thoughts swirling in his emerald eyes. Being an Auror, as she had learned in those first few days - before she found out she was pregnant, before they broke up -, was how stressing it was, especially during the post-war. There were a diminishing number of houses to be raided, paperwork to be filled growing exponentially, and no energy was spent, at all. Harry had grown restless, and she could see he wished to go back to - go back to whatever he did that year where he had disappeared. A job as an Auror, they both knew very well, wasn’t the action-filled days he had hoped for. Instead, it was mind-numbing boredom.

It was what he had chosen to do, however. They had spoken about it, once, under the stars, the soft sound of the Black Lake muting the rest of the world and making it seem like they were the last persons on Earth. Daphne had told him he’d make a great professor, maybe DADA; Harry had laughed and told her that he wouldn’t be able to be one, since he never had a proper example. She had insisted, and he had insisted on being an Auror until he kissed her and she forgot all about their conversation. She noticed the coffee was ready and waiting for Harry.

“I’m… Tired, I guess,”, he started, and Daphne nodded, passing him the mug. He grabbed the sugar with a spell, and kept talking. “An Auror job is just paperwork. I guess I got too starstruck. I mean, my dad was an Auror, my godfather was one… In a way, I think I wanted to be like them.”

He sipped at his coffee, and Daphne stared at him. She never knew who his godfather was - he had never told her, at least, but what she could piece together told her that his godfather had never really known him well, that he idolized him, that his godfather had been the most important person in his life for a while, and that he had been responsible for his godfather’s death -, and as such, she couldn’t comment on it.

“I told you to think well about your life choices,”, she pointed, and Harry laughed, the sound make his shoulders shake. “I meant it. I told you to not be an Auror, to be a professor, to be literally anything but an Auror.”

“You always knew better, didn’t you, Daph?”, he murmured over the rim of his mug, and Daphne rolled her eyes. “Why did we even break up?”

_ Because I was pregnant _ , Daphne thought, the words frozen in the tip of her tongue.  _ Because we never saw each other anymore, because when we saw each other we fought. Because when I looked at you I was afraid of everything I’d do to make sure you were happy. Because I took the decision I thought best for me and the child I carried. Because I didn’t want to be called a gold digger just because my family had gotten poor after the war. Because you were suffering because your friends saw your love for me as a betrayal of everything they fought for. Because my family had Death Eaters and you are The Boy Who Lived. Because I am, fundamentally, a coward. _

“Because our schedules were incompatible,”, Daphne decided to tell him, and Harry’s soft smile was a blessing and a curse. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember how many times all we did was kiss because one of us had to work at the same time the other arrived?”

“I do remember a few times I did get late when going to training, yes, with a few more bruises than the day before.”, Daphne sighed, loudly, and Harry laughed again. She allowed herself to laugh, but it came as dry, as if she hadn’t laughed for the past six years. 

He looked at her, emerald eyes glinting as he left his mug on the counter, getting off it to touch her face softly. His hands now had calluses, from gripping to his wand too much, and Daphne allowed herself to lean into his touch, to be comforted by his familiar warmth, to forget about his heavily pregnant wife, waiting for her husband to come home from a rough night at work. 

When he spoke again, his voice was soft, as if they were still those two kids under the starry sky.

“Are you alright, Daphne?”, he asked, too close, as if they still were together. “You can always talk to me, you know. I still...”

She heard Lilian stirring in her bed, and pushed Harry away. The look of confusion on his eyes was ignored, just like the look of hurt. They both knew, very well, what he was going to say.

“Go home, Harry, Your wife is waiting for you.”, Daphne told him, and Harry nodded, letting go of her face, his fingers letting a blazing trail of fire where they passed. She took a deep breath and ignored him as he went away, picking up the things for Lilian’s breakfast, not noticing that he, too, had heard someone stirring in their bed, not noticing the hurt on his eyes. At least, that was what she told herself. If Harry, the married man with children, wanted to be jealous of his ex-girlfriend to which he had no relations with anymore, she’d let him. Maybe that would make him learn how to brew his own goddamn coffee.

Lilian was her secret. Lilian was hers. Harry didn’t need to know about her. Not now, not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is One minor change made to the first chapter. you can ignore it tbh


	3. Chapter 3

Harry had the decency to wait two weeks before appearing in her kitchen again. On the upside, it was just after she had dropped Lilian on school. On the downside, it was her day off, which meant she either dealt with Harry or she’d be forced to stay outside her own house until he saw fit to go away. Daphne put the groceries on the table - and she had been foolish enough to assume she’d be able to do meal prep. Hah. What a joke - and looked at him, confusion clear in her eyes.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have work to do?”, she asked, and Harry shrugged.

“The Auror division is being cleaned after an artifact exploded during the night, and let me tell you, Daphne, you’re absolutely glad it’s your day off, because the Unspeakables have a lot of work to do,”, he told her. Daphne blinked, bored, wondering. Harry noticed, because of course he did. “I… I asked why you weren’t there. I was worried.”

She took a deep breath. Harry winced, and Daphne kept her stare leveled.

“I am very sure your best friend, who is your wife’s brothers, appreciated the compassion for your ex-girlfriend you showed,”, she told him, deciding that he didn’t need any goddamn coffee, separating what she was going to cut from what she could put away. “Go home. Spend time with your wife.”

Harry winced again, and Daphne was now curious. She made a questioning sound, levitating some of the groceries away.

“Ginny is… Having a mood. Pregnancy, you see.”, Daphne did, but she kept her silence, grabbing a knife instead. “So I thought I could, ah, use some time off.”

“What was the fight about?”, Daphne asked, looking at the vegetables. What could she do to make Lillian at least try some broccoli? Her latest options hadn’t worked. The girl seemed to have a penchant to show accidental magic just to get rid of it.

Harry laughed, and when he tried to man the coffee machine, she shot him a dark look, waving her wand to make it work by itself, other hand putting her dark hair in a messy bun.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Very much, yes,”, she replied. Harry hummed in reply, speaking nothing as she started cutting the vegetables up, serving his coffee with a flick of her wand. “And don’t tell me that making coffee with spells doesn’t taste the same.”

“It doesn’t,”, he replied, taking a sip, and Daphne sigh. “Also, we fought about something stupid, as always.”

“Such as…?”, Daphne queried, and Harry let the coffee aside, grabbing a knife and going to help her. She directed his attention to the vegetables, deciding that maybe a broccoli lasagna could change Lilian’s opinion of the vegetable. With enough cheese, perhaps, she wouldn’t be able to taste it. Daphne nodded to herself, and started working.

“Ginny wants to send James to a… Wizard school. I’m in favor of sending him to a Muggle primary school,”, he started, and while he listed all the reasons he thought he should be sent to a primary school, Daphne couldn’t help but thank herself for not letting Harry get in charge of Lilian’s name.

On one hand, Daphne could see some of the merits of a wizard primary school, namely on wand teaching, flying lessons, and history classes. On the other hand, Daphne had the firm belief both worlds should be mixed, and that was why she had sent Lilian to a Muggle school, telling her to keep magic a secret. Lilian obeyed, but Daphne couldn’t help but wonder if Harry’s sons would.

Lilian thrived in the muggle school, at least - more than Daphne ever had in her own primary school, a stuffy room filled with people she had known since she was a small child, learning about blood superiority and vilifying muggles. Daphne had agreed, at the time, until she had met Tracey during Hogwarts, and then changing her mind completely during the war -, and after a bit of research, she had learned it was because Muggles and wizards had different teaching styles, and the Muggle one suited her daughter better.

His reasoning for putting his kids on a school for muggles, at least, was the same as Daphne’s, wanting to avoid the stuffy rooms of pureblood society, and she laughed softly. Harry looked at her, eyes still so full of love and worship, and this was all so familiar it made her heart and head hurt. How many times they had cooked together - even if Daphne, in the beginning, couldn’t cook at all and had been often relegated to cutting and chopping the ingredients.

Still, it wasn’t as if Daphne could present her reasoning fully, not without exposing herself and Lilian.

“I say you and your wife go and see the schools for yourselves. Maybe it can make you change your mind, maybe it can make her change her mind.”, Daphne shrugged, levitating what she had cut away. He rose an eyebrow, and Daphne rolled her eyes. “Astoria has been pestering me to go with her.”

A lie. Harry didn’t need to know it.

“Isn’t your nephew the same age as Albus?”, he asked, and Daphne could feel a sheen of cold sweat form over her skin as she searched for an answer, looking away.

“We both know how Tori is,”, Daphne replied, and Harry touched her hand. Her eyes rose to met his, and - and he still loved her, didn’t he? Daphne bit her lower lip. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, and kissed her, softly for one moment as Daphne dropped her knife, his hands on her face, pulling her closer. Daphne allowed herself to melt into his arms, letting go of her morale for one long second before he pulled way.

“I’m sorry, I… I am a bit jealous, actually,”, he started, and she rose an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend now, don’t you?”

Daphne was confused, and apparently, it was noticeable, because Harry explained, blushing, how he had heard someone moving inside the apartment.

He had heard Lilian, and he had assumed it was another thing. Merlin bless Harry’s habit of not picking up things straight away, and when he did, they weren’t exactly correct.

“Go home, Harry,”, she told him, eyes closed, pressing the bridge of her nose. “Talk with Ginevra.”

“If you need me to give him a shovel talk, I’m available.”, he offered, and Daphne gave him a flat look, opening her eyes. She was sure Lilian would appreciate. “No?”

“Not needed, Harry, I can do it myself.”, she told him, and Harry finished his cold coffee before leaving. Daphne looked at the pile of half-cut vegetables, and with a heavy sigh, decided that using magic to do the job would be easier. If only the matters of the heart were so easy.


	4. Chapter 4

Daphne had never been so glad Astoria had taken Lilian for a weekend in Paris when she found Harry with blood in his shirt, having burnt coffee once more. She blinked in his direction as he posed a weak smile, a hand over his stomach, the white shirt stained beyond repair. 

“St. Mungo's isn’t here,”, she told him, going for the cabinet where she kept the first aid kit. Harry was still the reason she kept it, since she found cute the way he’d fuss with her if she cut a finger while cutting up anything, putting band-aids carefully and kissing her fingers softly. In turn, the gauze and salves were useful whenever he came home with a cut or an wound from some Dark artifact or another that couldn’t be healed with spells. “Is it yours?”

“Mostly, I guess,”, Harry said, voice weak, half-heartedly trying to man the coffee machine. Daphne sighed. “A raid to one of the Rosier manors went… A bit wrong. I think it’s poison.”

“Of course it went,”, she told him, the gears in Daphne’s mind turning as she went to support Harry, tearing him away from the machine, touching the soaking wet shirt and finding a small wound. “The Rosiers are poison brewers for a trade, so it is probably poison.”

Now, the question was what poison - and on a smaller scale, why he had come to her. Daphne guided him to her bed, and laid him there, unbuttoning his shirt, poking the wound with her wand. Harry moaned, feverish and sweating, and she wondered what could have been. When Daphne noticed he wasn’t looking, she made the portrait of Lilian by her bedside facedown. He didn’t need to see that.

Back to the subject at hand, what did the Rosiers produce, poison-wise? She knew the Zabini family did the undetectable sort of poisons - and Mrs. Zabini was very good at testing her new creations in her husbands -, but what kind of poisons were the ones the Rosiers did?

“Tell me what happened,”, she decided, spelling her hair in a bun, trying to remember what spells her father used when he needed to verify a wound for Dark magic.

Harry laughed, eyes wild and unfocused. Alright, it was… Bad. She cast a spell to stop the blood flowing in that area, just to be sure. She had no idea how much blood he had lost, after all.

“We got a tip that the Rosiers were selling some sort of forbidden potions, so off we went after one Auror was able to buy one.”, he started, and Daphne’s mind started going through a list of forbidden potions. She should know that. Harry proceeded to describe how he was cataloguing a potion when it suddenly exploded, but since he had been alone in the room - foolishly, as he described himself, and Daphne was more than inclined to agree -, no one really noticed as long as he kept his work robes on. At least he had provided her with potion color, which narrowed down the options somewhat.

After that, Harry had gone back to work as if nothing had happened, and Daphne, with an eye on him and another on the potion book, rose up to fully look at Harry, seeing him sprawled on bed. Weren’t it for the bloodstain on her white sheets, it’d look familiar, a memory in flesh once more.

“And how, exactly, no one noticed?”, she asked, closing the book and picking up another.

“I said I’d go for decontamination and ran away,”, he smiled, and Daphne nodded. Decontamination usually took a day, ran by the Unspeakables, and they also enjoyed using them as test subjects for the potions invented in the underground laboratories. It wasn’t the most pleasant option - Daphne shuddered, thinking about the poor Auror who had a terrible adverse reaction and had lived to tell the tale, but sadly it had took him a month to do so -, so she could see why he was at her house. 

Still, if it hadn’t been her luck that Astoria had taken Lilian out of the house…

“St. Mungo's is still a better option than my house. They have better resources than I do, at least.”, Daphne grabbed another book, and Harry offered her a weak laugh.

“The moment I step in there, I assure you, there will be at least one extra edition of the Daily Prophet in the presses,”, he said, coughing. Daphne found the thrice-damned potion - it sounded like it could be the Erumpent Potion with maybe a protective spell, and cursed when she noticed all it did was give whoever touched it a nasty surprise. Daphne cast a quick analysis spell, and relaxed when she noticed all Harry had was a small blood loss - well, if any blood loss could be considered small. - and a nasty side effect of whatever protections that potion had that could work itself out of his system through sweat, acting much like a fever. No, wait. He was already running a fever. This one was just a new, added bonus.

She rose her eyes to meet his, the love and adoration she had seen before still there. Daphne approached the bed, sitting by his side.

“Are you sick, Harry?”, she asked, and when he nodded, Daphne sighed, quickly disinfecting the wound in his stomach. At least he didn’t have glass inside. Maybe it was the force, combined with the potion, that had ruptured his skin? 

“There’s a bug going around the Auror department,”, he explained, and she nodded. Lilian had gotten a bug, too, but it just made her sneezes make things change colour. At least Daphne had been able to keep her away from school during the worst period, even if now her decoration clashed awfully. “Can I stay here? I don’t want to…”

Daphne shushed him, not wanting him to end the phrase.  _ I don’t want Ginny to get it.  _ That… Stung more than what she wanted to admit.

“You’re paying the most expensive set of linens I can find,”, she told him, and Harry laughed. She put a hand on his forehead, slick with sweat, leaving her wand aside to touch her own forehead, his skin almost sizzling hot in comparison to hers. Daphne hissed, and closed his wound, watching his skin glue itself together. An analysis spell made a few moments later showed that it had only external damage, but he did need a few blood-replenishing potions. That should be easy enough to owl-order.

Daphne rose up, mind already running a list of things she needed for him, but was stopped by Harry’s hand grabbing hers. She shot him a confused look.

“Won’t your…”, he stopped, fingers stroking her palm. “Won’t your boyfriend mind?”

Daphne was thoroughly confused for one second, but her mind kindly reminded her of their last interaction, and she smiled.

“No, not at all,”, she told him, and he let go of her hand. “Now let me take care of you.”

Harry nodded, and she took his glasses off as he closed his eyes. She took a deep breath, and started to work. 


	5. Chapter 5

He was hallucinating, a consequence of his running fever. In Harry’s feverish mind, they were back at Hogwarts, in their eighth year, but it went back and forth between then and their first year on a terribly cramped apartment. Daphne could work with that.

“You’re too much work”, she told Harry, almost joking as she watched as he ate. It had been a day since he had appeared bleeding in her kitchen, and while he was not bleeding anymore, he was still running a high fever, which was troubling. At least he wasn’t anemic anymore.

Harry laughed, the blush that dusted his cheeks pretty, if not worrying. Daphne decided to keep an eye on it.

“Haven’t I always been?”, he asked, looking at her. “Don’t you remember that time in Snape’s class when I told him he could call me sir?”

Daphne laughed, shoulders shaking, and he smiled at her. She hadn’t been present, but the rumor made its rounds quickly, and she hadn’t believed it, not until Harry had confirmed it, one night.

Her laugh was careful, however. She hadn’t been in that class. If he was hallucinating she was, she’d have to correct him. Daphne also needed to change his shirt - the one he was wearing was already soaked through. Maybe after he ate, however.

“I thought he was going to explode,”, he continued, eyes unfocused and hazy. Daphne nudged the spoon, and he seemed surprised to see it there. “It’d be messy, now that I think of it.”

“I’m at least glad he just didn’t whip out his wand and kill you on sight,”, she told Harry, watching him eat. It was a simple chicken soup, but it’d help him heal. “Honestly, he hated your guts.”

“Dad’s fault,”, Harry said, and Daphne didn’t press. He looked around, sighing. “Was your dorm room always this dark? Wasn’t there that lake light?”

Ah, so they were back at Hogwarts in Harry’s head. Yes, her dorm faced the lake, providing a cool green light over everything, washing them in light as if under the sea - and no teacher cared much for rules that year, trying to rebuild, so they lazed around her bed as much as they could possibly get away with -, but for Harry to go back to there was… Odd. What could make that happen?

“It’s night,”, she lied. Harry nodded, leaving the soup aside, and Daphne sent it away. He lied down, and Daphne made a move to rise up, get a new shirt for him, but he held her back. “You’ve sweat through that shirt. Let me get another.”

“Alright, but then we’re sleeping together. I miss the way you felt in my arms,”, he said, and Daphne paused. They… Weren’t at Hogwarts anymore, in Harry’s mind, then? She’d have to tread carefully. “I don’t sleep well if you’re not with me. That’s why…”

“That’s why you come so early?”, she asked, gently freeing herself from his grasp. Harry nodded. There were shirts in the dryer, probably, but her mind was far, far away, sitting back on the mattress. “Because you can’t sleep?”

“Not without you, never since we parted ways,”, he said, almost confession-like, and Daphne leaned down, her lips cool against his, Harry’s mouth opening and letting her tongue pass through.

Daphne felt as if she was eighteen once more, without the weight of the war in her shoulders, aware her Death Eater parents were far, far away from her, aware that the Dark Lord wasn’t a shadow looming over her head. His mouth was still like she remembered, the same pit in her stomach being created and destroyed at the same time. 

She missed it. Daphne missed Harry so much it hurt, and she had never noticed the pain until that moment. She let go of his lips, trying to will away the tears that stung her eyes, and rose up.

“I’ll... “, her voice cracked, and Harry - all love and adoration and feverish eyes - didn’t seem to notice. Daphne took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “I’ll be right back.”

Daphne grabbed as many shirts as she could, carrying them into the laundry room, and allowed herself to silently and bitterly cry as she stuffed his clothes into the laundry machine, grabbing the one Harry had been wearing when he had come to her kitchen.

He couldn’t sleep without her. That wasn’t something she expected, but now that she gave it some thought, Daphne could remember the dark bags under his eyes, the small sounds of an invisibility cape moving around before he appeared out of thin air when her dormmates weren’t there to whisk her away to another bed. How didn’t Daphne notice that? Was she so selfishly egotistical she only had cared about herself? If that was the case, wasn’t she still like that, by avoiding to tell Harry about Lilian?

She should tell him. She shouldn’t tell him. The question swirled in her mind, and in the end, when she heard a weak  _ Daphne?  _ call her, Daphne rose up. She’d tell him when he was better, she decided as she picked a clean towel.

The promise Daphne had made barely five minutes before mocked her when Daphne arrived in her bedroom, because Harry had picked up Lilian’s portrait, and was studying it carefully, his eyes the same as when he went over a case.

“Harry?”, Daphne called, approaching carefully, playing with the folded shirt in her hands as she sat on the bed. She placed on hand on his back, and Harry’s eyes, so similar to Lilian’s, focused on hers. Daphne gulped, and silently started to take off his shirt.

“Who is she?”, he asked, putting the portrait back into proper position. “She looks like you.”

_ Tell him. _

“It’s a photo of Tori as a kid.”, the truth was stuck to her tongue just like the sweat clung to Harry’s skin, and she couldn’t tell him. Harry hummed as Daphne quietly dried him. “Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking it’d be nice to have  a family with you, that’s all.”, his smile could outshine the sun, and Daphne’s throat was full of words she couldn’t speak as she finished changing his shirt. “A kid, no, maybe two kids, a cat… You’d make a lovely wife.”

Daphne could see it, and the ugly part of her kindly reminded her Harry already had all that - with his real family, with his real wife -, but for one moment, Daphne could see it as well.

“How utterly domestic, Harry. Wouldn’t have pegged you for the type.”, he laughed and laid back, eyes still on Lilian’s photo, her precious little girl twirling in a seafoam dress. “Rest. Dream that life.”

Harry nodded, laying down, and Daphne held his hand, sitting near him, sharing body warmth.

When she thought Harry was asleep, he spoke up.

“Weren’t Astoria’s eyes blue?”, he asked, and Daphne smiled softly, pushing the photo away, into the darkness.

“It’s a trick of the light, Harry,”, Daphne told him, and Harry, with a yawn, nodded. Daphne’s shoulders only relaxed when his breath evened out. That had been close. Too close for comfort.


	6. Chapter 6

For once, Daphne caught Harry breaking into her house, a bit more than a week after he had spent a day in her house. At least he had the decency to seem ashamed as she passed him a coffee mug, feeling just the tiniest bit smug about herself as the radio, for once  _ actually  _ working, played soft music in the background, just low enough as to not bother the sleeping Lilian.

“Early morning?”, he asked, picking up the sugar. Daphne shrugged, sipping her Earl Grey. 

“I could ask the same to you,”, she lied, diverting her eyes, his half-whispered confession while with a fever running through her mind. Harry simply laughed, leaving the sugar behind. “You always put way too much sugar on it.”

“Look who’s speaking, miss  _ two and a half cubes or it’s literally undrinkable. _ ”, Harry sipped at his coffee, and Daphne made a vague, outraged sound. “No, no, let me guess. How dare I?”

“Exactly, how dare you? Two and a half cubes sweetens it perfectly!”, Daphne huffed, leaving her tea behind as she approached Harry, who, for once, wasn’t sitting in her counter like the eighteen-year-old he had been. Some old, instrumental music started playing, and Daphne recognized it - it had been one of the first few songs she had heard after the war, wasn’t it? As Daphne wondered if Harry would recognize it as well, considering they had heard it together while cleaning debris, he chuckled.

“If you say so,”, he told her, sipping his coffee once more before setting it aside, facing her. Harry offered her a mock curtsey, and Daphne giggled as if she was still a schoolgirl. “Would you offer me this dance?”

“I don’t see why not,”, Daphne replied, accepting his offer. To her surprise, as they did their best to avoid hitting the kitchen table and the counters, he was still a good dancer, if not the most gracious one she had ever danced with.

Daphne had taught Harry how to dance. The song that played on the radio someone in other debris-cleaning shift left behind had started, and Daphne had quietly started to hum it to herself, quietly matching the music’s rhythm to her wandwork, which had somehow caught on Harry’s attention. He had frowned, and when she caught him frowning, Daphne had hissed at him, asking what he was looking at - to which he shrugged.  _ “I never saw anyone match wand movements to music, it’s all”,  _ he had told her, and Daphne had taken offense.  Somehow, that had led her into teaching him how to dance, and the two of them then had been scolded by McGonagall, who for some reason didn’t assign them new cleaning pairs.

Lost in memories, Daphne was brought to present day by Lilian’s soft, sleepy voice, and she froze, just like Harry. She looked at the doorstep just in time to see her daughter appear, black hair a mess and emerald green eyes filled to the brim with sleep.

“Lilian, sweetheart,”, Daphne called, letting go of Harry’s arms to go to her daughter, trying - and failing, as always - to tame her hair with her fingers, forgetting about the frozen Harry watching the scene unfold as she went down to her daughter’s eye level. “It’s a bit early for you to be awake, isn’t it?”

“I had a nightmare,”, Lilian sniffled. Daphne kissed Lilian’s forehead softly, and rose up. Lilian’s eyes followed her, and fell into Harry, behind her. “Who’s that?”

Daphne gulped, and turned her head to see Harry looking at her and back to Lilian, green eyes clearly completing the puzzle she had never told him about. She looked back to her daughter, the same green eyes on another face focused on her, and rose up.

“That’s a friend of mine, sweetheart. Here, why don’t you sit while I prepare you…” Daphne paused, guiding Lilian to the table, eyes staring at Harry. “How do you feel about pancakes?”

Lilian offered her a bright smile, one teeth missing and making her look more like the child she imagined Harry had been.

“Yes!”, she told Daphne, and Daphne hummed. Harry, meanwhile, offered a tight smile, pushing his shirt’s sleeves up and looking to Lilian.

“Would you mind if I helped your mother, miss…?”, Harry asked, and Daphne decided to leave him to try, at least, grabbing the ingredients. Well,  _ ingredients  _ wasn’t the best word for it - it was a ready-made box, one of those quick  _ just add water  _ things.

“I’m Lilian, who are you?”, Lilian asked, and Harry smiled, but not as tightly as before.

“I’m Harry.”, he replied, and when Lilian nodded, he went to help, touching her arm quietly, eyes filled with questions. “Is she my…?”

It had been a whisper, but Daphne didn’t want Lilian to hear it.

“Later, Harry. She still has to go to school.”, Daphne interrupted. Harry looked to her ingredients, and shook his head. ”Sorry all of us can’t cook.”

“Can I assume from now, then?”, he asked, and Daphne gave him the floor, offering a quick look to Lilian before smiling. Harry followed her eyes, and nodded to Lilian. “Lilian, do you want to help me, maybe?”

Lilian looked to Harry and to Daphne, and Daphne simply nodded, quietly going to the table.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, sweetheart,”, Daphne told, sliding to the seat in front of Lilian, and the little girl nodded.

Unfortunately, she had the Gryffindor tendencies of her father, because Lilian rose up, approaching Harry carefully and making Daphne sigh silently, levitating the stool she had gotten from Astoria so that Lilian would be able to see what was going on on the counter.

Watching as Harry played along with Lilian, easing her along, teaching her, however, hurt - because that was a side of his she’d never had seen, a side only probably Ginevra Weasley knew. Daphne was jealous.

She should have told him, but at the same time, it would’ve hurt him, because his friends would have never accepted them (and if she said she’d never saw Granger smirking, way too smug, when they briefly crossed paths on the Ministry, she’d be lying.), nor would they have accepted Lilian. Daphne knew she shouldn’t care so much for appearances, but it was the way she had been raised.

When they were done, there was freshly brewed tea for Daphne, warm coffee for Harry - Daphne had to stop him, when he tried to use the damn machine -, and hot chocolate for Lilian, the three of them with a stack of pancakes each. Daphne ate in silence, only the soft sound of the radio still going, punctuated by Harry asking Lilian about herself, and her daughter volunteering the information without a care in the world. When Lilian was finished, she excused herself to get dressed, and Harry at least had the decency to wait until they heard the door to Lilian’s room carefully closing.

“You didn’t answer me,”, he told her, and Daphne drunk whatever there was of her tea before answering.

“She is yours, yes, but that’s as far as I go with her around here,”, Daphne offered, rising up, glad she had dressed up as soon as she had woken up, putting a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. She looked at Harry, and took a deep breath. “Would you like to take her to school with me? We can talk after I drop her off. There is a nice coffee shop near the Ministry.”

Harry looked at her, something brewing in his eyes, but Daphne decided to not dwell on it, sending the dishes to wash themselves. 

“Why…?”, he started, and Daphne shook her head. He could wait a few more minutes - after all, what was it when compared to the years he hadn’t know anything?

They stayed in tense silence until Lilian came out of her room, dressed and with only the hair to do. Daphne solved that issue quickly - the braiding spell had been one of the first she learned - and _Accio’d_ the schoolbag to her hands, giving it to Lilian.

With that, they were off, Harry one step behind, watching quietly Daphne and Lilian. There was a pit growing in her stomach with every look Lilian sent Harry, who participated in conversation (a very neutral theme of homework and school; in a way, it let him know how smart she was, and Daphne  _ hoped  _ he got that.) carefully, and if Daphne paid more attention, she could notice the subtle Auror interrogation techniques he was using - and which they had turn practicing, so Harry would know what to expect and what to say -, but she brushed it off.

When Lilian arrived at her school, a mere twenty minute walk from her house, she kissed her daughter’s forehead and let her go, Harry wishing her a good day in school before she went off. They watched for a few minutes, until Daphne was sure she was well inside the school, and made her way to the back alley she used as an apparition spot. Harry, however, as soon as they arrived there, stopped Daphne in her tracks, grabbing her arm.

“Why?”, he asked, and Daphne bit her lower lip. “Why didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to burden you,”, she replied, softly, letting herself go of his grasp. Before Harry could speak again, she Apparated away, in a back alley behind the coffee shop. She waited for Harry, and he was soon to follow, looking confused. Daphne indicated with her head the inside of the building.

She rarely, if ever, drunk coffee - but Daphne had a feeling she’d need it. Daphne made their order, shushing Harry when he offered to pay, and they sat in silence while they waited, both seemingly trying to grasp words that had been kept purposefully quiet.

When Harry rose up to pick their orders, Daphne’s eyes followed a beetle floating lazily around, before she snapped her attention to Harry, who slid her a paper cup.

“Ask.”, she told him, taking a sip of her coffee. Harry seemed to grasp for words. Daphne couldn’t guess what his question would be -  _ why Lilian? Why hide it? Why break up with me? Why didn’t you want to burden me?  _ were all possible options.

“How old is she?”, he asked, in the end. Daphne blinked, surprised, but let her coffee aside.

“Lilian is six.”, she replied, sipping her coffee once more. It was bitter, but Daphne could use some of it. “And before you ask,  _ yes _ , she is named for your mother. I thought it... Fitting.”

“Let me guess,”, he started, playing with his cup. Harry had always needed a distraction for his hands, to soothe his mind. “Her middle name is Arachne?”

Daphne smiled against her will. Of course, once upon a time, they had briefly discussed children’s name. Harry insisted on having a kid named for his father and godfather _ ,  _ and Daphne had told him at least one kid would be named for her grandparents. They settled, in the end, for having a girl named after her grandparents, with whatever name he would choose. They both knew, even then, the name would be Lily. 

However, that would have happened in a perfect world - a perfect world where Lilian would be the older sister, with two little brothers named for people important to Harry, but like hell she wouldn’t have fought to make their names hers, too -, and as such, it was not Lily Arachne Potter who existed, but  _ Lilian Arachne Greengrass.  _

“Lucky guess,”, she told him, fingers drumming on the table absentmindedly. Harry put his hand on top of hers, the gold band of a wedding ring glinting in the morning light, and Daphne felt the smallest twinge of guilt. “Go on, keep asking, we have work to go.”

Harry took one moment to think, but Daphne could guess what was next.

“Why did you hide her?”, he asked, and Daphne paused.

“You weren’t happy with me,”, she started, and Harry opened his mouth, a protest ready to leave his lips when she rose a hand. “No, let me continue. You weren’t happy, Harry. I saw it in the way you reacted when Weasley made a commentary about me, about my  _ allegiances.  _ I saw it in the way you looked like a kicked puppy in the rain, and I hated it. I did it for you.”

She stopped, letting Harry process it, his green eyes clouding for the briefest of seconds.

“So when I found out I was pregnant, I panicked. I knew you’d be unhappy, that Lilian would be under scrutiny, and… And I didn’t want her to lead the life I had. So I broke things up with you,”, Daphne said, memories flooding her mind and leaving her as bitter as the coffee she was drinking when she remembered what happened next. “But, I mean, not like you cared, right? You were marrying Ginevra three months later, anyway. That were some great news for you, Harry.”

Harry paled, and they both looked at each other. Daphne had cried herself to sleep during the first announcement, but it was the second one - the one that told the world that he’d have a kid - that made her burn the newspaper, carefully keeping the smoke away from the direction of Lilian’s room, where she slept fitfully, having just fallen asleep, rage tinting her world. Maybe that was part of why she had decided burning the newspaper was a good choice - after all, Harry wasn’t hers, not anymore.

“Ginny thought she was pregnant, and I didn’t think it was right for a kid to be raised without their parents. I still don’t,”, he told her, sipping his coffee and averting his eyes. Daphne blushed slightly. “Then she turned out not to be, but I… Partly, I didn’t want to see what the newspaper would say, partly I felt pity.”

Daphne nodded, and his thumb started to make circles on her hand. Daphne would have pulled it in, but it was so familiar and full of warmth.

“So you don’t love her?”, Daphne asked, her heart trying to fly away from her ribcage.

“That’s a hard question to answer, but…”, he stopped, thinking for a moment. Daphne’s heart wanted to create wings. “I don’t think I’d ever quite love someone as much as I love you.”

Daphne wanted to burst, to sing and scream, but she took a deep breath, instead.

“We’re veering off course,”, she told him, instead. Harry simply smiled.

“Of course we are. Well, how come I never noticed a kid around? Kids tend to leave messes behind them,”, he pointed out, and Daphne smirked.

Harry had first started coming to her house a few days after the news announced Ginevra was pregnant with his second child, and Daphne, whose own kid was sleeping in her room, after she had been forced to attend an urgent Unspeakable meeting, had come to a mess of a house and Harry Potter burning coffee in her kitchen.

For one brief moment, Daphne had panicked. It had only been made worse by Harry potter, smiling softly.

“Lots of child toys around, hm?”, he had asked, and Daphne could’ve bitten off her tongue. 

“Tracey had me babysit her kid and I didn’t have time to organize the house,”, she had lied. Daphne could have told him back them, but just the thought he could leave his wife for her and their kid, leaving behind three people broken and with a fresh, breaking news edition of the newspaper scared her. “Just give me a second.”

Harry had laughed them, saying something along the lines of her being a clean-freak and not tidying up her house, and she had hexed him in turn.

“Tracey’s kid,”, she replied, simply, back to present day. Harry nodded, and looking at the time in the coffee shop's clock, Daphne rose up. “I have to go. Work awaits me, and it awaits you, too.”

Harry held her wrist, and looked at her with familiar green eyes.

“Can I see her again?”, he asked, voice soft. Daphne nodded quickly, and he let her go. “Thank you.”

His thank you was a prayer, almost as if she had saved him somehow; Daphne simply smiled and went on her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in other news: i'm bad at math. theorically for this to happen in a canon time frame lilian would have to be five instead of six, but if we all ignore that real hard and pretend lily luna was born a year later than what canon dictates, this can still be canon compliant


	7. Chapter 7

Meeting in public had been stupid, and Daphne knew it fully well when, three days later, her boss knocked down on her laboratory door, which was weird. No one interrupted her - she worked with dangerous ingredients, where an extra drop or two could cause an explosion -, and as such, this worried Daphne. Perhaps something had happened with Lilian? Astoria was her emergency contact (the school thought she was an MI6 agent, which was weird.  _ Well _ , she  _ did  _ work for a government…), and if it was, in fact, Astoria, then there was something truly wrong.

She finished cutting the dried mandrake tongue, set it with a freezing spell, and left her work station, a frown marring her face as she looked to her boss. Her boss had been a Hogwarts Quidditch player she had been vaguely aware of, and he nodded to her.

“Greengrass, you have a visitor.”, he told her, voice dry. “Try to not take too long.”

“Sure, sir,”, Daphne replied, confused, as her boss went away, going to Macmillan’s table. Was it not Astoria, then? So who could it be? 

Daphne took a deep breath and made her way to the lounge room, where all visitors were received, wondering who could it be. Harry had been in her house barely a few hours ago, so that excluded him (probably). Draco barely acknowledged her, and Daphne extended the same courtesy to him. Astoria wouldn’t have gotten such a dry reception from her boss, so who…? Pansy? Tracey? Goyle? Blaise? 

In the end, Daphne knew as soon as she saw red hair, heart skipping a beat and face paling. She could feel blood running away from her cheeks as a very pregnant, very pissed Ginevra Weasley-Potter tapped her foot on the floor, holding a manilla folder. Daphne broke in a cold sweat; nothing good could come out of a manilla folder, as office life had taught her. She put her best smile and approached Ginevra, nodding quietly.

“Ginevra Potter. What do I owe the pleasure?”, Daphne asked, the smile on her face too tight. In the vaguest sense of ways, Ginevra had stolen what was hers, and she couldn’t forgive her - even if she had been the one to break up with Harry. 

Ginevra threw the manilla folder in Daphne’s chest, crossing her arms, and Daphne, flustered, caught it before it fell on the floor and spilled its contents, opening it and feeling the ground disappear beneath her feet.

It was the photos of barely three days ago, Harry and his puppy eyes, a baffling column by Rita Skeeter revealing her so carefully hidden daughter to the world, the title  _ \- the first Potter child -  _ mocking her as the photos of them told that it wasn’t just more vapid gossip from Skeeter, but the truth. The column reported on their relationship, questions being asked to Harry’s friends in regards to Harry and Daphne’s past relationship, and Rita, by the end of it, asked her own questions about Lilian.  _ Why is Lilian hidden?,  _ Rita Skeeter asked, and Daphne almost could hear Skeeter’s voice ask if it was because her daughter was a Squib.

“You’re lucky my editor stopped her,”, Ginevra hissed, taking the folder back, and Ginevra grabbed Daphne’s wrists with force. “Stop trying to steal my husband, Greengrass. You broke up with him, and I had to pick up the shards. Don’t think you can just swoop in and break his heart once more.”

Daphne took a deep breath, and let the smile in her face relax, leaning in to speak with Ginevra.

“Then tell _Harry_ to stop breaking and entering in my house, because I am not inviting him in,”, she hissed, and stepped back, hands on her back. “Is this all, Mrs. Potter, or am I further needed by you?”

Ginevra stared at her, and Daphne returned the stare until the redhead left, each stomp almost an earthquake. Daphne wondered if she shouldn’t have given birth yet, and watched, curious, when Ginevra stopped at the doorstep, almost leaving the place before turning back to Daphne. She rose an eyebrow, prompting Ginevra.

“You’re _lucky_ this won’t be published. It’d sully my family’s reputation,”, Ginevra told her, and those words made Daphne’s knees weak.

Lilian would be preserved - thank Merlin. Daphne had seen every move of Harry scrutinized in the news since age fourteen; to have her daughter be the subject of that, since the mere age of six, would destroy both of them.

She took a deep breath, and turned her back to the door, going back to work. She’d talk about this with Harry later, but she had a nagging feeling that he’d hear it before she would be able to tell him. 

When her work day was over, Daphne passed by the school to pick up Lilian with one eye forward and another looking over her shoulder, paranoia setting in as she wondered how Skeeter had followed and how had the two of them not noticed.

Lilian, at least, didn’t notice anything, chattering like a music box about her day and classes, and obeying Daphne when they arrived and she told for Lilian to do her homework while Daphne prepared dinner.

She wondered how Harry would react and what Ginevra would say. Would she be as belic? As angry? As furious, as if Daphne’s so well kept secret slipping through her fingers by means unknown was her fault? For Merlin’s sake, Daphne had never knocked on their door and presented her daughter as if she was some burden and begged for money, blackmailed Harry into giving Daphne whatever she had wanted or instead she’d go to the news. What right had Ginevra to treat her like she had? None. Daphne could feel a headache forming, and she let out a groan, making Lilian’s familiar green eyes rise from whatever math problems she had to solve.

“Mum?”, Lilian asked, pencil still in hand, and Daphne observed her daughter through the reflective surface of the coffee machine. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I just have a headache.”, she replied, and Lilian seemed ready to jump. Daphne stopped cutting vegetables for a moment. “Would you pick a potion for me, please?”

“Can I?”, Lilian asked, already moving out of her chair, and Daphne bit the inside of her cheek to contain a smile. She would be a good potion mistress, if she so decided to follow it. 

“As long as you’re careful.”, Daphne replied, and listened to the sounds of Lilian going to the potion cabinet, the sound of the stool she used to brush her teeth being dragged through the floor making her smile. Her daughter was still an unknown to the magical world; that would be enough for her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some worldbuilding! some lilian and harry interaction! some blatant character naming that have NOTHING to do with future chapters! let's all agree to never do anything like this again

Harry entered her kitchen in the worst moment possible - and while Daphne really needed to talk with him, ask about how Skeeter found out, if she and her daughter would be safe from that woman, if his wife wouldn’t do anything about it, it wasn’t the best moment.

“I’m going to the market, Harry, so unless you want to come with me, make yourself at home.”, she told him, struggling a bit to close Lilian’s cream and blue robes. It had been a gift from Blaise during Lilian’s birthday, and the girl seemed to like how it was soft. 

Harry looked at her, and Lilian turned to face him, smiling brightly, like a small sun.

“Hi, uncle Harry!”

“Hello, Lilian. Where are you and your mom going?”, he asked, and Daphne, cleaning her dark green robes, rose up, his familiar green eyes following Daphne as she gently plopped Lilian in a chair, starting to braid the girl’s untamable black hair. It was those moments Daphne wished Lilian had her hair. “Somewhere cold?”

“We are going to Portree!”, Lilian chirped, and he rose an eyebrow at Daphne. She had never liked the village too much - Daphne had been raised near there, for Merlin’s sake, she knew how it was well enough to dislike it. Although, maybe the dislike was conditioning from her Muggle-hating parents; when she had visited the city with Harry, only once, she had liked it enough -, but she needed something from there.

“I need to brew a potion, and I’m lacking faerie dust. Portree has the freshest faerie dust, as we both know it,”, Daphne replied, with a sigh. Lilian nodded, and Daphne shushed her, trying to tame her hair. 

“I see. Would you mind if I went with you?”, Harry hummed, and Daphne was shell shocked for long enough that her daughter turned to face her, puppy eyes and all, almost begging for her to say yes.

Daphne had only one fear, and it was that, somewhere deep inside, Lilian knew Harry was her father. Daphne didn’t want her daughter to know - not yet, at least, she was too young. Maybe after Hogwarts, when her daughter wouldn’t have the need to worry about hiding it from anyone. A mind that didn’t know anything was, after all, a guilt-free mind, after all.

However, Lilian got attached to people very easily. It was probably just that.

“Fine, you can go, Harry. One of your old robes must be in my closet, go pick it up.”, she told him, and it was Harry’s turn to smile like the sun, rising up. Daphne would gladly blind herself, and kept brushing Lilian’s hair as he went to her room.

It was only when Harry closed the door that Lilian spoke up.

“Why is uncle Harry’s robe in your closet, mum?”, she asked, trying to look up, and Daphne gently put her daughter to look forward once more, not feeling the floor under her feet. And there was Daphne hoping she wouldn’t have to tell Lilian anything before the right time came.

“We know each other for a long time, sweetheart, and some of his clothes stayed with me,”, Daphne told her, and Lilian perked up.

“Oh! Like uncle Blaise?”, the girl asked, and Daphne chuckled, a breath she didn’t know she was holding letting go. Blaise was a good friend, yes, her daughter’s godfather, and Lilian loved him… Well, like an uncle, considering the little girl wouldn’t have a comparative for a father, and that Blaise spent long times away.

“Yes, sweetheart, like uncle Blaise.”, Daphne finished the braid, and patted her daughter’s shoulder. “Alright, there you go. Pick up your bag, I know you’ll want something.”

“Okay!”, Lilian jumped from the chair, running through the kitchen, and almost hitting Harry, dressed in the old black robe Daphne had bought him almost a lifetime ago, when she had been appalled to find he had no travel clothing. She smiled at him, softly, and spelled the machine to make coffee.

“Can we talk?”, Daphne asked, softly, one ear paying attention to her daughter’s movements. He sat in front of her. “You know Skeeter found out, right?”

“Yes, and I took care of her.”, he replied, smiling. Daphne frowned.

“You killed her?”, if he did, Skeeter had a small backlog of articles to go, and they were all surprisingly accurate. Was she a Seer? Improbable, but it made sense, when considering she had known where they would be.

“No, I just threatened her. I have a secret she wouldn’t want to be published.”, he hummed, and Daphne wondered how  _ Harry Potter,  _ of all people, had dirt on  _ Rita Skeeter.  _ If anything, it should be the reverse.

“I just want to know if my daughter is safe from her quill.”, Daphne gently levitated a coffee mug to Harry, and quietly got herself one, as well. She’d need it.

“Rita won’t publish a word about our daughter.”, he took a sip of his coffee, and noticing  _ something  _ on Daphne’s face, stopped, setting it aside and reaching to touch her face. “Don’t worry, Daphne, I made sure of it.”

Daphne’s shoulders let the tension go, and she smirked, hearing her daughter approach.

“So you’re on a first-name basis with Rita Skeeter, hm? How curious. One does wonder how that happens.”, Lilian zoomed in, putting her bag - this one purple and green and hideous, and it was the best for the crowded markets of Portree, where Lilian enjoyed way too much running up to see the sights and forgetting she had a mother - on the table, smiling. Daphne turned to her. “Alright, ready to go?”

“Ready!”, Lilian chirped. Daphne nodded, grabbing her daughter’s hand, and faced Harry.

“I assume you remember where is the Portree magical market?”, she asked, and when Harry nodded, Daphne Apparated away with Lilian, appearing in a back alley. While she checked to see if Lilian was having any adverse reaction to the Apparating - Lilian ended up dizzy and with nausea, if she wasn’t ready and waiting for it -, Harry appeared out of thin air, and seemed to have the same adverse reaction Lilian wasn’t having.

Like father, like daughter, Daphne supposed. She rose up, petting her daughter’s head, looking outside the alley.

The Portree magical market was mostly an outdoor market, more of a fair than any sort of organized shop. It was colorful and packed, and if Daphne didn’t need the faerie dust, she would never step a foot in there. 

“Alright, we’re going to the stall selling faerie dust, and if you’re a good girl, Lilian, we can get some candy.”, Daphne decided, and Lilian beamed, stepping between her and Harry, and grabbing their hands. That was dangerous, if someone saw them. “Lilian!”

“It’s alright, Daphne,”, Harry hummed, and Lilian looked to him. “So, Lilian, why don’t you show me what’s nice about here, while your mom goes and runs her errands, hm?”

Lilian looked to Daphne, green eyes pleading silently, and Daphne had to admit that it wasn’t a half bad plan, actually. If anything, it could cut her time spent on Portree, which was a great idea.

“Alright, but you have to obey Harry, Lilian, you hear me?”, she told her daughter, who nodded rapidly. “And don’t run!”

“Got it!”, Lilian replied, and let go of Daphne’s hand, pulling Harry forward.

Daphne let them go ahead, a sigh leaving her lips for a moment, before straightening her shoulders. The faster she got the thrice-damned faerie dust, the quicker she could take Lilian - and Harry, she supposed - back to the safety of her apartment.

The faerie dust, in the end, was easy to find. The hard part was haggling with the crone that was as old as time itself who owned it, her blind eyes seemingly staring at Daphne. The old crone, said some rumors of the town, was half-fae herself, but Daphne chose to not believe it. Still, that didn’t mean Daphne didn’t leave her something, deciding to not call it an offering, as she put a vial of Sleepless Dream in the crone’s hand, together with the money. To appease some of her old childhood myths and fears, mostly.

The old woman smiled - no teeth, at all -, and Daphne packed the faerie dust quickly, leaving and looking, almost instinctively, for Lilian’s purple and green bag. She hated this town, and she hated how it got under her skin.

Portree wasn’t her home - a nice gated Manor, just on the outskirts of town, was -, but as a child, one of her (magical, of course) nannies took her and Astoria to the town, see the sights and the market while their parents did whatever they did when half-working for the Dark Lord. 

Daphne hadn’t been the wild child who ran off and got lost, but Astoria was, well enough for once to run and play at being a normal child.

When the nanny noticed Astoria’s disappearance, the two of them searched the ground; but when her little sister couldn't be found, the nanny approached the old crone, the same one who sold faerie dust, speaking in odd riddles that made no sense. The old crone extended one withered hand, and the nanny gave her a lock of hair. When the deal - what else it was? - was done, a man appeared as if out of thin air, with Astoria on his back, her little sister eating something that Daphne  _ knew,  _ after years of searching for it, no stall sold. Astoria never spoke of it, what she had seen and heard, and Daphne was told to not ask. She did, however, check if her sister was a changeling, but no, she wasn’t; Astoria still could do magic with a wand and tell lies.

The nanny told them to keep it a secret, and they did. When the nanny disappeared, weeks later, and rumours arose that she had ran off with the Hunt, Daphne escaped her home and went to see the old crone. When Daphne asked  _ where is she? Is she with the Hunt?,  _ the old crone extended one withered hand, a smile on her face, and Daphne ran off.

She shook her head; it did not do well to dwell on the past. She noticed Lilian’s bag, Harry carrying it while the girl walked around on his shoulders, and Daphne stopped walking, watching quietly.

Lilian seemed to be having fun, pointing at the stalls and its wares, running commentary, and Harry, too, seemed to be having fun. Daphne stalked them quietly, approaching slowly, wanting to watch.

“... And there they sell all sorts of cotton candy flavor, and blue apples, and…”, Lilian pointed everywhere, and Harry, with the softest smile on his face, didn’t even notice Daphne was by his side.

“What flavors?”, he asked Lilian, and Lilian paused, before smiling.

“All of them! Even the gross ones!”, Lilian chirped, making Harry laugh and turn back to the stall, approaching the man who sold it. He, too, was there for as long as Daphne remembered.

She needed to get out of Portree, but Harry and Lilian seemed to be having fun. Daphne only approached them when Harry offered his cotton candy to Lilian, after her daughter told him hers was peppermint, making a face when, after tasting, she told Harry it was spinach.

“Then maybe, sweetheart, you should eat it,”, Daphne suggested, making Harry jump. Lilian huffed, and Harry, with a mischievous smile, offered back Lilian’s peppermint cotton candy, her daughter switching it quickly. “Don’t indulge her, too.”

“Oh, I’m not.”, he was, but Daphne wasn’t going to be the one telling him that. “Did you get your faerie dust?”

“Yes. Shall we head back? I can make lunch. That is, if you two didn’t stuff yourselves with candy.”

Harry grinned, and Lilian shook her head.

“I’m just now eating candy, mum!”, Lilian said, and Daphne sighed. “Can I finish eating before we go back?”

Daphne nodded, and Harry put her on the floor carefully one handedly. Lilian started going forward, almost running. The bag, however, allowed Daphne to not lose her kid to the crowd. She really didn’t want to do a deal with the old crone.

“Can we talk about… This thing with Skeeter? Your wife...”, she asked, and Harry looked to her, something on his eyes. Daphne had to press forward, however. “Tomorrow, if you want. Lilian will go to Astoria’s house, there will be no problems.”

“Sure. I should… Discuss this with Ginny, too, shouldn’t I?”

“You haven’t?”, Daphne ask, shock clear in her voice. Harry shook his head. “Why? I thought…”

“The kids are home. They’re off to grandma this weekend, and work has been rough, so I haven’t had the time. But today, maybe.”, he shrugged, hands in his robes pockets. It still fit him.

They had come to Portree, once. Daphne stayed away from the market, and Harry had had fun with her, even though the both of them were, in a way, tourists. In a way, today too, they were tourists, but not the two kids just off Hogwarts, but… Well, to outsiders, a family. To Daphne, it was just her, her daughter, and the man who was her daughter’s father.

“Today, please.”, it was almost begging, but Daphne didn’t beg. “Also, tomorrow Lilian will be going to Astoria’s, so if you’d like to come and discuss, my house will be available.”

He smiled, and said nothing; Daphne took it as confirmation. She had to.


	9. Chapter 9

Astoria had, once again, asked for a weekend with Lilian. Daphne let her, even if it had been barely two weeks, because she knew how much Astoria had always wanted many kids running around the house, and she was unable to have more than one. Lilian didn’t mind, too -  _ aunt Astoria,  _ apparently, bought the best kind of candy, and honestly, what else a six-year-old could use as a measure? -, and as such, this was how Saturday morning found them, Daphne carefully braiding Lilian’s hair as the girl kicked the air.

Part of her allowed it for Astoria. Another part of Daphne allowed it in the vain hope Harry would come to her, but she figured it’d probably not happen. Would his wife even let him get out of the house, after what she had learned? The answer was a very probable no.

Of course, Daphne realized with a sigh, as she heard the door open, is that she was thinking about  _ Harry Potter,  _ who her sister’s husband had spent six years talking about non-stop. Harry Potter, who broke the rules and stole the House Cup from Slytherin in her first year. No, Daphne wasn’t still bitter about that.

“If you’re looking for coffee, you’re going to have to do it yourself,”, she told him, not taking her eyes off the dark hair her daughter shared with Harry. Lilian looked up, curiously, and Daphne gently shushed her into looking forward once more at the same time Harry appeared on the doorstep, eyeing the garishly pink backpack on the floor. “I’m busy.”

“Alright, ma’am,”, he replied, and smiled to Lilian, producing a book and setting it on the table, sitting on the chair in front of her. Daphne gave it a once over, noticing it was a simple coloring book. “I thought you’d maybe like it?”

It was a question, unsure as the dark terrain he walked on. Lilian carefully picked up, and Daphne kept an eye on the braids she mechanically made and another on the book. It was a simple book, truly, bought in a newsstand, drawings of princesses with large eyes staring back in monochrome. Lilian hugged it against her chest, and the smile on her face could probably unfreeze an iceberg.

“Thank you, uncle Harry,”, she told him, and Harry blinked, surprised. “I love it!”

Harry offered Lilian a small smile, and the girl jumped off her chair, braids coming undone as she went for her pencils. Daphne sighed, and motioned for the coffee machine. Harry nodded and went up to it, starting to try and work out the buttons while Daphne quickly spelled her daughter’s hair. She was making a move to help Harry not make her kitchen stink of burnt coffee for an entire day when someone knocked on the door, and Harry sent her a confused look.

Daphne bit back her panic with a smile, and Lilian, Merlin bless her innocence, was running to the door, pencils forgot and book open, drawing just barely colored in. She spelled the items back to Lilian’s travel backpack, the girl herself already chattering with Draco.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, but Daphne was more worried that she was not hearing her sister’s voice.

Astoria had a story of sickness, the curse in their family showing its claws on her - she had been homeschooled until her third year because she had been deemed too sick to come, and then it was a year at school and a summer of recovering -, and as such, even having  _ one  _ kid had been terrible. It was why Daphne didn’t mind sending Lilian to Malfoy Manor, but normally Astoria was able to pick her up. As such, seeing Draco instead of Astoria was… Worrying, to say the least.

She met Draco halfway, Lilian running for her backpack. At least he was polite enough to ignore Harry, nodding to Daphne.

“Where is my sister?”, she asked, anxiety rising within her, and if by the lazy smile Draco offered her, there was nothing to worry about.

“Tori thought it’d be a bad idea to bring her gift this time, considering it flies,”, Draco replied, and all anxiety Daphne was having was swiftly substituted by anger.

Lilian, however, was happy. Daphne wasn’t.

“Aunt Tori bought me a broom?”, she gasped, and Daphne shot Harry a murderous glare when he started giggling like a schoolchild. Draco, at least, seemed amused by this entire scene. He messed her carefully spell-made braids and smiled, looking to Lilian’s green eyes.

“A broom and a small Quidditch set,”, he replied, making Lilian squee. Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What do we say, Lilian?”, she asked, wishing she could spell away Harry, who seemed way too happy about all this. Lilian, seemingly startled at Daphne, smiled sheepishly, and thanked Draco, who simply smiled. “Very well done, Lilian. Now, go with uncle Draco and obey him and aunt Astoria, alright?”

“Alright!”, Lilian turned and hugged Daphne, and Draco picked up the garish pink backpack. It didn’t suit him at all, and had been only part of the reason she had deemed that Lilian’s travel bag. “See you soon, mom! Bye, uncle Harry!”

Draco raised an eyebrow to that, and Daphne offered him a strained smile. 

“Not so fast, young lady. Let me accompany you and Draco to the door.”, Daphne sent a look that, she hoped, conveyed the  _ stay quiet  _ she wanted to tell him, and followed Draco and Lilian to the door, Lilian almost flying forward to the hallway. Draco, however, stopped by the door, Daphne inside and he outside, both quiet.

It had always been a Slytherin tradition to not break the silence, to see whose will was stronger than the other, to see if words could be conveyed through looks. Daphne would be forced to lose.

“Don’t tell Astoria,”, she almost begged, and Draco nodded. “You know how she felt about me and Harry. She was...”

“Like a kid seeing her favorite toy broken, yes. I was there when you told her,”, he reminded her, and Daphne nodded. He looked behind her. “Does he know?”

“I told him.”, Daphne replied. Draco simply stared at her. “Do not tell Lilian. She’s not ready.”

“Is anyone ever? I’ll pass the memo to Tori.”, Draco adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. “I’ll bring her back Sunday night.”

As if noticing the conversation had ended, Lilian turned back to Daphne, waving to her.

“Bye, mum!”, she said, and Daphne chuckled, watching as Draco and Lilian went to the stairs. He’d Apparate from there, as always, and as soon as Daphne hear the  _ pop  _ sound, she closed the door, looking behind her and sighing, resting against the door, eyes closed. Harry was in her kitchen, and Draco had seen it. sure, she trusted his word of not telling Astoria, but Lilian was a wild card.

Astoria had been the first one to find out about them - quite literally, actually, considering she had been patrolling the halls and had caught them in a broom closet -, and had been very happy her straight-laced sister had started dating, especially after the war. 

The war had not been kind to them, considering her parents, before the Dark Lord’s fall, had been thinking of selling Daphne and Astoria to some old, stuffy lord in the Continent. When their parents had been caught after the Battle of Hogwarts and carted off to Azkaban, Daphne accepted the family duties gracefully and promptly ceased all negotiations, letting Astoria marry Draco whenever they wanted ( _ please,  _ she knew her sister) and letting herself be free for half of summer, visiting the muggle places she had never been allowed to go before returning to Hogwarts for cleaning duty, and Daphne had been paired off with Harry Potter, of all people.

Then, of course, everything else had happened, and it was those sort of decisions that led her to rest against a door, her daughter gone for the weekend and her daughter’s father waiting in the kitchen. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, straightening her back and going to face the fire she had created.

Harry, at least, didn’t seem to bother with the wait, but Daphne apologized all the same as she slid into the chair in front of Harry, and he simply smiled, sliding her a cup of tea.

She rose an eyebrow at this, but took a sip all the same, the familiar taste of Earl Grey filling her mouth.

“It’s no problem, it was…”, Daphne had a very vague idea of what was to come. “It was fun.”

“I’m sure it was for you,”, she replied. “She’s a Seeker, by the way. I don’t like to let her play because she takes too many risks, like someone I know.”

“You can say she’s like her father,”, he pointed out, and Daphne cracked a smile. It would be a surprise if Lilian didn’t end up on Gryffindor, and it would make, hopefully, her parents spin in their Azkaban cells. “Lilian seems like a good girl.”

“She is.”, Daphne took another sip of her tea, Ginevra’s words spinning in her mind.  _ Stop trying to steal my husband, Greengrass.  _ “What did Ginevra say? I’m sure she must have confronted you.”

Harry’s smile fell. 

“I’m relegated to the couch, and I barely convinced her to not divorce me. Said the kids needed their parents.”, he played with the handle of the mug, eyes not facing hers. “That seemed to convince her. But Ginny doesn’t want our kids together, or me in public with Lilian.”

“So, you’re playing pretend with her?”, Daphne asked, trying to quell her heart. It wasn’t exactly appropriated to grow excited with the news that a marriage was failing. “For the sake of the children?”

“Basically.”, he then looked up to her, one hand reaching across the table, and Daphne, almost automatically, put her hand on top of his. “Ginny did say, however, that after the children go to Hogwarts, I can be freed of her, if so I wish.”

“Freed? That makes it sound like you’re in Azkaban.”, Daphne joked, but she knew it wasn’t a prison sentence for him. No, it was for her - a gift from Ginevra to Daphne, from a certain point of view. From hers, a curse of sorts.

_ After the children go to Hogwarts _ meant all the children - including the one who wasn’t even born. That’d mean that, at earliest, if Harry and Ginevra didn’t have any more children, Harry would be able to live with her when Lilian was seventeen - long past after any age she could be raised. Ginevra, in the end, would have the last laugh, and Daphne distantly wondered how she hadn’t been put in Slytherin. 

“A marriage and three children pretty much are,”, he replied, and seemed serious suddenly, as if lightning had struck him. “Sorry. I’m avoiding the subject.”

“Which would be…?”, Daphne questioned, sipping her tea. He started making circles with his thumb against her skin, the movement familiar and comforting. 

His eyes were showing her favorite aspect of Harry - serious, focused, when he needed something that was just in front of him, just shy of his reach. She had loved seeing that facet when he was in the Auror training, trying to find a piece of information he needed, and Daphne felt almost revered that facet was now hers to savor.

“After Ginny told me that, I… I decided I’d spend this weekend with you and Lilian.”, he offered her a bitter laugh, but Daphne didn’t flinch, he should have asked, instead of barging in. His eyes fell to her hand. “Try to know Lilian more, you know? Try to…”

Daphne stayed silent. He seemed to need that moment to regain his thoughts, to join two plus two to make four. When his eyes rose to hers, there was a strength she had seen for only a brief moment in the battlefield.

She had participated in the Battle, sure. Daphne had escaped the dungeon the Slytherins had been forced into as soon as she made sure Astoria would be alright, and ran to the thick of the battle, leaving her Slytherin tie behind in the steps. She had fought her friends’ parents and fought with people she had never talked to, and had had a glimpse of Harry before he was swallowed by the masses once more, but Daphne had never truly forgotten it.

“Try to get you back. Try to see if you loved me.”, he replied, so quiet she almost didn’t hear him speak. Daphne’s heart fell.

“Wasn’t that already established?”, Daphne asked, voice as soft as his.

“I need to hear it.”

“I love you. I never stopped loving you, and seeing you with Ginevra hurt me more than I would have liked to say it did.”, Daphne bit her lower lip, and Harry rose up, chair scraping the tile floor, the warmth of his hand leaving hers, an imprint burning in her skin as he approached. “Harry?”

“I love you too,”, he told her, kissing her, and Daphne was eighteen once more - free and without a care in the world as she kissed Harry once more. When they separated, needing air, his forehead touched hers. “We have the entire weekend to ourselves.”

“Then, perhaps, we should get started with it.”, Daphne suggested, kissing him, her thoughts of morality gone through the window. Ginevra had let her do that, in a way, hadn’t she, when she let Harry get away for the weekend?

Harry simply smiled, and as she rose up, guiding him betweens kisses to her bedroom, she thought this, perhaps, could work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> interested in More? theres a prequel out now, just gotta click the "next" button on the series (we got a series now lads)


	10. Chapter 10

The weekend had passed too quickly, a blur of heat and sweat. Daphne couldn’t complain, but the nagging to whine about time was still there as she heard the shower running, freshly bathed and drinking tea in her kitchen. She really wished the wry, satisfied smile that seemed to be stuck on her face went away, though.

Lilian would be coming home soon. With any luck, Astoria  _ wouldn’t  _ come to bring her, and she wouldn’t find Harry in her kitchen. Astoria would make a scandal and a half, and Daphne really didn’t need the neighbors to discover, too.

Well, they probably knew anyway, considering Daphne hadn’t been exactly quiet this weekend, and even the most powerful privacy ward could let one or two things escape when they weakened. Maybe she should hide from her neighbors for a few days, just until the coast cleared. Or maybe she should invest some of her time in privacy ward research, if Harry planned on making these visits over the weekend a constant.

Daphne blinked, frowning. Was she a stupid eighteen year old again, to have such thoughts? She had Lilian to take care of, and Lilian wouldn’t spend all weekends with Astoria and Draco, which meant she couldn’t spend two entire days in bed with Harry, for Merlin’s sake. She shook her head, rising up, deciding to make more tea for herself. Maybe something stronger, that would get rid of such thoughts from her mind.

The radio was playing some soft, old song that Daphne was straining to remember the lyrics to while waiting for her tea to steep when Harry appeared, hugging her from behind and kissing Daphne’s neck softly, making her laugh.

“Stop with that, Astoria is coming any moment,”, she told him, and he laughed against her skin. “Come on, Harry.”

“I’d love to,”, he hummed, warm breath giving her shivers. Daphne turned, facing him and putting her arms around his neck, looking into his green eyes. He was still the same Harry she knew, but with more lines around his eyes, still the same boy she met in the middle of debris, eyes a millennia old. “What, no jokes allowed?”

“None at all,”, she replied, kissing Harry as if it was the last minute they had on Earth. His hands were up her shirt when there was a knock on the door, and Daphne bit back a curse, passing a hand through her dark hair. Harry was still in her house, and Astoria, probably, was outside. What a  _ great  _ night.

With a sigh, she let go of Harry, wishing her sister would stop knocking like a child, and wishing Harry would stop trying to stifle his laughter, because it was not working. Daphne smoothed her shirt and with a deep breath, opened the door, finding Lilian with the biggest grin Daphne had ever seen, and Astoria, with a smile more fit for a cat that had eaten the  _ goddamn canary. _

“Mum, mum, you won’t believe how nice is the Quidditch set aunt Tori bought for me!”, Lilian chirped, and Daphne smiled. “There’s even a Snitch! I brought it home, aunt Tori let me!”

“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. Why don’t you go put your bag in your room while I talk with aunt Tori?”, Lilian didn’t even answer, speeding in, and when Daphne was going to tell Astoria to take that smile off her face, Lilian greeted Harry, and Harry, with a barely stifled laugh, greeted her back. Daphne wondered if the ground couldn’t just swallow her whole, because Daphne felt that was what Astoria’s growing smile was going to do. Daphne was half-tempted to poke her sister with iron.

“So, uncle Harry, huh?”, Astoria started, resting against the doorstep. “I’m happy for you, Daph, I truly am. He always made you smile like you were just now.”

“I’m helping him  _ cheat  _ on his wife, Tori,”, Daphne hissed, and Astoria shrugged, nonchalant. “Oh, come on. Would you like it if it were Draco and, I don’t know, Pansy Parkinson, instead of me and Harry?”

“The difference about your issue and your very much hypothetical case is that Draco is happy with me, and thus, wouldn’t cheat. Can you say that Harry is happy with his wife, Daphne?”, Astoria pointed out, as if  _ she  _ were the older child. Daphne took a deep breath. “I know it’s problematic and all that jazz, really, but Daph, there used to be this  _ shine  _ in his eyes when he was with you, and there isn’t anymore. Well, there wasn’t. Some pictures of him nowadays show Harry much happier. We both know he can’t just divorce Ginevra, but if all he needs to be happy is a few moments with you, then to hell with those morality issues you’re having.”

Daphne bit her lower lip, and Astoria smiled, much more softly, messing up Daphne’s hair.

“I still feel guilty.”, Daphne batted Astoria’s hand away, playing with the hem of her shirt. “He has a wife. He has  _ three kids _ . Who am I to intrude like that?”

“I remember hearing you complain once or twice about people visiting your house uninvited, and now I’m going to assume it’s him, just so I can bring this conclusion to you: you didn’t intrude his life, he intruded yours, silly.”, Astoria put her hands on her hips. “I distinctly remember you doing your best to avoid him, to the point of plain ignoring him on the hallways. Besides that, are you happy, Daph? That is the most important thing, because if you aren’t, I’m going to barge in and give Harry a piece of my mind.”

Daphne laughed, and Astoria giggled. Was she happy, though? Yes, but it was all hidden under guilt. Harry had dealt better with the revelation of Lilian’s existence that she thought, and the fact he had accepted their daughter, no questions asked, had made her soar high. The fact he loved her just made her break through the sky, shooting for the moon.

“I am. I think I may be happy, Tori.”, Daphne replied, in the end.

“Then stop thinking so much about Ginevra, you big baby.”, Astoria sighed. “Honestly, Daph, you overthink things.  _ Carpe diem  _ and other latin spells, lady Greengrass.”

“ _ Carpe diem  _ is not a spell, lady Malfoy. You ought to know that.”, Astoria waved her off. “It’s good to see you, Tori.”

“I say the same. Come spend a weekend in Paris with us, Scorp misses you.”, Astoria replied. “Well, off with me. My child and husband wait for me, and your kid and not-husband wait for you. Go on.”

Before Daphne could reply, Astoria Apparated away, and Daphne, mildly panicking, looked both sides, sighing when she noticed no neighbors were around. She closed the door, and went back to the kitchen, where her daughter showed to Harry the Snitch she had caught.

“So, what about aunt Tori’s Quidditch pitch?”, Daphne asked, deciding to get started on dinner. Harry, noticing her cue, rose up, and started helping her while Lilian told of all the feints she had made in her search for the Snitch, while Daphne decided she should have killed Astoria as a child and Harry laughed.


	11. Chapter 11

Daphne was just getting off to buy lunch - the same usual gruel food as every day, offered by the cafeteria the Ministry had and that Daphne bought every day because it was cheap - when she accidentally hit Blaise, which was a mystery in itself, especially considering Blaise didn’t work there.

“You.”, Daphne started, pulling Blaise to a small niche where people weren’t walking to get to their lunch. “Last I’ve heard, Blaise, you were swindling off people’s money in Italy.”

“Tell Pansy to be a sweetheart and stop gossiping so much, I was  _ mooching  _ off them,”, he replied, and Daphne smiled. Blaise hugged her, the familiar smell of cologne involving Daphne for one second. “I missed you.”

“Oh, me too. But really, what you’re doing here? Did you run out of people to get money from?”, Daphne asked, letting go of him, and he offered her a glittering smile.

Blaise had done his seventh year again, and after that, he set off to Italy to have a glamorous lifestyle. There were some talks of him having a myriad of lovers who paid his every whim, and Daphne knew it wasn’t,  _ probably _ , just rumors. Still, it wasn’t like she could trust Pansy as a source.

“Can’t a friend just visit another on the job and take them for lunch?”, Blaise hummed, taking Daphne’s arms and joining the mass of people. “Besides, I just arrived from Italy, I’m off the loop. Why don’t you fill me in, Daphne dear?”

Daphne considered for just half a moment. Between having a fancy lunch paid by Blaise or eating the exact same thing she did all days, Blaise won.

“Sure, Blaise. You’re paying.”, Daphne smiled at him, and she noticed  _ something  _ in his eyes, a mischievousness that Daphne had only seen in someone else’s eyes - in Astoria’s eyes, barely yesterday. “I have more than a slight feeling that you talked with Astoria.”

“What? No, no.”, Daphne relaxed for one second, noticing that the crowds were parting for future-Minister Granger, by her side Harry, the two of them talking about something serious, Daphne was sure. Her eyes lingered on Harry’s Auror robes, slightly scruffed, and blushed when heard Blaise chuckling. 

“Oh, shush, let a girl have eyes.”

“From what Astoria told me, you did way more than looking, dear,”, Blaise hummed, and Daphne wondered if she couldn’t, perhaps, invent some spell that made the ground swallow her whole. “Not that I’m shaming you, of course. I’d love to take a look myself.”

“Shush, you,”, Daphne replied, noticing that Harry was looking at her. Granger then spoke something, and while Harry’s eyes look at his friend, it was only for a mere second.

“Risky.”, Blaise pulled Daphne closer, and the two disappeared into the crowd once more. “Anyway, all that drama aside, start filling me in on how my darling goddaughter is.”

He was Lilian’s godfather because he had been there during her birth, and had offered, during the months of her pregnancy, to assume her paternity. Daphne had denied it, but he kept up the offer. Daphne had almost accepted -  _ almost _ . Part of her knew that, if Lilian were one day to discover the truth by accident, she would feel betrayed by both her mother, her  _ supposed  _ father and her  _ actual  _ father. As things stood, however, the blame would fall squarely on Daphne’s shoulders. No one else needed to get the blame for her decisions.

Lunch was a lovely affair - Daphne told Blaise what happened to Lilian in the last few months since his last visit, and Blaise regaled her the saucy tales of his adventures in Italy. It was fun, really. Blaise even escorted her back to work, and Daphne wouldn’t have minded, hadn’t Blaise started acting suspiciously romantic.

“Thank you for having me for lunch, madam Greengrass,”, Blaise said, kissing her hand as she rested against a wall, not really ready to go back to the laboratory. They were doing something that made a few test subjects scream, and honestly, it gave her a headache. “It was very pleasing.”

“It’s nothing, Blaise.”, Daphne replied, staring at him, and Blaise’s dark eyes were filled with mischief. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I assume you have something else to do? Like, let’s say, meet Tracey?”

“Daphne, I could spend my days hearing you talk,”, he sighed, and Daphne was really confused about everything. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful eyes?”

“Should anyone?”, Daphne asked, raising an eyebrow, and Blaise smirked. She decided to cut it short.“See you later, Blaise. I don’t assume you would want to join me for dinner?”

“And miss an opportunity to shower my precious goddaughter in gifts?”, Blaise tutted her. “Daphne, it’s almost as if you don’t know me.”

“Merlin knows I wish I didn’t.”, she replied, putting a stray lock of hair behind her ear, turning, and noticing that the eyes of one Harry Potter were fixated on her. Daphne leaned back a little. “How long has he been watching me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a few minutes? No, no. Perhaps since we’ve arrived? What a question,”, Blaise answered, kissing Daphne’s cheek. “Have fun. You deserve it.” 

Before Daphne could hex him into oblivion, Blaise took his leave, and Daphne, with a sigh, raised her head high, and went ahead, pretending to not see Harry. With any luck, he’d do the same, and Daphne would be able to peacefully go back to her experiments. She was sure Nineteen was next to a breakthrough.

Luck, however, was not by her side, because Harry, with a smile, stopped her in her tracks, pulling her to a stop where not many people dwelled.

“Unspeakable Greengrass, may I have a word?”, he asked, polite as ever, touching lightly on her arm, and Daphne made an inquiring noise. “I think we may have found some Dark Art object in one of our investigations, but it doesn’t seem active. Could you check it, just to be sure?”

“Auror Potter, while it would be my pleasure, I urge you to send any possible Dark items to the Unspeakable office, so no problems may arise,”, Daphne replied, assuming her professional stance as she and Harry took off to the Auror offices. “What item it is?”

“We think it may be something powerful, considering it’s locked in a heavy iron box.”, Harry shrugged, and Daphne wondered, for one brief second, if it had a fae origin.  Perhaps not - not so far south, anyway -, but it was still a possibility. They were on their way to his office when Harry spoke up once more. “So, lunch with Zabini?”

If Harry was a wine, Daphne would sniff a note of jealousy. She smiled to herself, wondering, as he lead her through the Auror office, if there was even an item to be analyzed.

“Oh, yes. Lovely affair.”, she replied, in the end. Harry opened the door to his private office, a familiar mess of paper greeting her. He never changed, did he? “Really, who am I to refuse having my lunch paid for?”

“Good question,”, Harry hummed, going to sit in his own chair as Daphne closed the door, producing from the surprisingly stable pile of paper an iron box, rising up to offer to her. She approached his desk, a frown starting to form on her face.

Daphne could  _ smell  _ something within it, and wondered if maybe it wasn’t faerie, in fact. She took off her wand from her pocket, tapping the box for a moment, an analysis spell leaving her lips quickly, trying to identify what was inside without opening. If only there was some sort of spell that made one able to see inside things, but alas.

An array of colorful graphs appeared to her eyes, information coming in runes and images, and Daphne frowned. It wasn’t faerie, but it still needed a heavy iron box to contain it. Unfortunately, without access to most of the Unspeakables’ resources, Daphne couldn’t exactly open it, since whatever was inside could be a curse or something equally awful. 

She offered her most professional smile.

“This is definitely cursed, but I can’t say much more. Would you mind if I took this down with me?”, Daphne asked, and Harry shrugged. “Very well. I must remind you, Auror Potter, to take items such as these straight to the Unspeakables next time.”

“Not a problem.”, Harry shrugged once more, and he approached her quickly, hugging her, the box between them. Daphne let herself relax. “Have I ever told you how pretty you look in these robes?”

He always had - and Daphne, really, didn’t see what he found so pretty in the formless, shapeless grey robes she always wore. However, it was flattering, and as such, she gave it a pass.

“Only a thousand times,”, Daphne replied, burrowing herself in his arms. She rose up her head, going to kiss Harry when Hermione Granger’s voice came from the other side of the door, urgently knocking. Daphne let go of him just in time for Granger to open the door, frazzled and worried. She was sure she was blushing. 

Hermione, however, didn’t seem to notice this, going straight for Harry.

“There you are, Ginny just contacted me to say she’s going into labor, you have to go to St. Mungo's…”, as Granger kept speaking, reality washed over Daphne like a bucket filled with ice. Of course, nothing was simple, right? Hermione shot her a look, and said nothing about her directly, smiling quietly to Harry’s sudden frenzy. “Just go, I’ll close shop for the week for you, alright?”

“Thanks, Hermione,”, he replied, and offered Daphne a quick nod before almost running off. 

Silence fell between the two of them as Hermione organized the piles of paper, and Daphne did her best to leave quietly. Unfortunately, Hermione noticed her at the door.

“Listen, Greengrass, I don’t care if you want Harry back. Just don’t do anything in public, for Merlin’s sake. Imagine if it was Ron, instead of me.”, Hermione offered, not even looking at her. Daphne averted her eyes. “Just go, Greengrass. I’ll pretend this wasn’t an office affair. And don’t worry, I’ll speak to Harry about this.”

“It _wasn’t_ an office affair.”, she tried, but by the way Hermione laughed dryly, she didn't seem very convinced. Daphne bit her lower lip and went back to the Unspeakable office. Her subjects needed experimenting.


	12. Chapter 12

Daphne wondered, looking to Lilian, if burning the newspaper would be an overreaction, or if perhaps it would set a bad example. The news of the birth of a new Potter hadn’t taken long to appear, and Daphne wouldn’t have cared, hadn’t it been the little girl’s name. 

Of course they would have her named  _ Lily.  _ Sure, what a  _ coincidence _ . The reason, as so elegantly put by Skeeter’s pen, was also wonderful. “ _ We felt like we needed to pay homage to Harry’s mother, who sacrificed herself so that Harry could live...” _ . No wonder Ginevra was a journalist, really. She _knew_ how to wordsmith very well.

Still, her pride was the tiniest bit wounded. Her daughter may not have been an  _ official  _ Potter, but her daughter was still named after his mother. Still, how many little girls weren’t, especially in the years after the war? And how was Harry  _ supposed  _ to explain why he wasn’t naming his only daughter after his mother, especially after having named his eldest after his father? There was no possible answer to this that  _ didn’t _ reveal Lilian. Daphne sighed, drinking her tea.

“Something wrong, mum?”, Lilian asked, raising her eyes from the coloring book. Her green eyes lingered for a moment over the newspaper, but she spoke nothing.

“No, sweetheart.”, Daphne replied, checking the time. Why was she surprised Harry wouldn’t come? He had a newborn baby in his home. He wouldn’t come to her for a long time. Six months, perhaps more.

At least, that was her logic - Daphne woke up one morning to the smell of burnt coffee and fresh pancakes, the nagging thought she maybe should invest in a better set of locks knocking in her head. Maybe something a simple  _ Alohomora  _ couldn’t break. She rose up and went to the kitchen, finding Harry making pancakes with Lilian, her daughter failing to stifle laughter as she noticed flour making Harry hair white. Daphne was… Surprised. His daughter was barely four months old, and yet, here he was.

“Good morning,”, Daphne called, making the two freeze. She smiled, and Harry at least had the decency to blush. Lilian, however, seemed unbothered. Ah, to be a child. 

“Good morning, mum!”, Lilian chirped, jumping from her spot and running to Daphne. Her hair, too, had flour on it. “Do you want pancakes? Me and uncle Harry just made them!”

“That’s great, sweetheart, but perhaps, before eating, you should wash. You’re all covered with flour.”, Daphne touched her daughter’s forehead, a small cloud of flour floating off. “We can wait.”

Her daughter pouted, but dutifully obeyed, and Daphne only spoke again when she heard the shower start.

“Aren’t you worried?”, Harry asked, flipping a pancake as if he was a trained chef.

“I’ve made sure the shower was child-safe. There are more spells there than I have on my door.”, she replied, sitting. There weren't many spells on her door, but the shower was safer than Gringotts. “I thought you had a newborn daughter at your home, with, you know, other two children.”

Harry seemed ashamed of it, but he spoke nothing. Daphne deemed it a permission to continue to speak.

“By the way, it’s a nice name the one you gave to her. Lily Luna. Rolls just right off the tongue.”, Daphne couldn’t help but sound bitter as the burnt coffee Harry made, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I understand why you put it, but it stings.”

Harry spoke nothing, letting the accusations in the air stew for a bit before speaking. Well, not exactly accusations per se, but her tone of voice was accusative.

“Ginny took the children to see Molly, and I _think_ she is mad at me. So, I claimed I had to work. And I do spend time with the children. Just… Not a lot. I work.”, he said, in the end, seeming ashamed. _Good_. He should be.

“What a wonderful dad.”, Daphne told him, sitting. Harry winced, and only then Daphne remembered it wasn't like he had a proper father figure, wincing as well. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I haven’t been the best father, I know. I should be, but…”,Harry stopped, seemingly falling deep in thought for a moment. “But there is no excuse.”

“Glad you noticed that.”, Daphne replied, spelling herself a cup of coffee. It was burnt, yes, but she needed it. "Spend time with your own children."

“I want to get to know Lilian. Isn't she mine, as well?”, Harry paused once more. “And I want to spend time with you, of course.”

Daphne sighed, stuffing her personal satisfaction with his statement as far as possible.

“We can work out some schedule, if that’s your issue. A weekday at my house a week, one weekend a month, something.”, she shrugged, and Harry floated a plate of pancakes to the table, cleaning himself with a spell. “Don’t ruin your relationship with your children because of me.”

“She is one of my children too,”, Harry pointed out, sitting in front of Daphne. “But I get your point.”

Daphne heard the sound of the shower being turned off, and smiled, drinking her awfully bitter coffee. She perhaps should install a child-proof lock on it for Harry. A Harry-proof lock. The thought made her smile a bit.

“Then I believe we’re done here, aren’t we?”, Daphne replied. “Did Granger talk to you?”

He at least had the decency to blush, nodding quietly, and Daphne set a spell to clean the coffee machine.

“Oh, yes. She told me to stop having an affair while on the Ministry, but also told me to take notice of where _I_ was when you were near, so the message I got was a bit mixed. But, considering I’m not the best example of someone who follows rules…”, he shrugged once more, and Daphne failed to control a chuckle. “Hey, I bet even  _ you  _ had heard of Hermione is a stickler for rules.”

“The Slytherin gossip mill only went so far, dear.”, Daphne bit her tongue. That term of endearment shouldn’t have left her mouth - and Harry knew it as well, if the pleased look on his face was anything to go by. “One word, Harry, and I’m hexing you seven ways to Sunday.”

“Merlin help me, then, _sweetheart_ ,”, Harry smiled, reaching through the table. Daphne, blushing ever so slightly, allowed herself to put her hand on top of his, and the two of them stayed quiet until Lilian arrived, smelling like soap and cleanliness. harry smiled to her. “Here she is, the little chef. We were waiting.”

“Ready to eat, Lilian?”, Daphne asked, as the girl sat in the chair between them, smiling brightly and nodding vigorously. 

Perhaps this could work, but they’d need some sort of schedule, really. Something that would allow Lilian to grow up while Harry watched, even if not  _ officially  _ as her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiny chapter.............


	13. Chapter 13

Lilian’s birthday came sooner than expected. Well, not exactly - it was a fixed date, after all -, but still. Daphne half-wondered what she should get for Lilian's birthday, and also what she should do for it. Perhaps she should invest in getting Lilian in one of those little league Quidditch teams, perhaps she should get the little potioneer kit she saw Lilian looking. The other half of her was paying attention to Harry and Lilian chatting, Harry doing the dishes while Lilian did her very best to dry them, and Daphne quietly read the news. She had made breakfast, let Harry deal with washing.

The schedule they worked out was surprisingly simple - two mornings a week with Daphne and Lilian, a weekend a month with them -, and as such, it allowed to Harry get to know Lilian. She just wished he’d be able to help her think a good birthday gift for her, but when would be an appropriate time? At least she didn’t have work today, and Daphne couldn’t help but wonder if his day off wasn’t the same as hers.

“Hey, Harry?”, Daphne called. Harry hummed an answer, and she closed the newspaper slowly. “Can I assume you’re on your day off?”

“I can make it one, if that’s what you’re asking me,”, he replied, and Daphne sighed. Lilian perked up.

“Can it be my day off too?”, Lilian asked, and Harry messed up her hair, so similar to his.

“You have school, young lady,”, Daphne chided, rising up and approaching them as Harry laughed.

“That’s not fair. Why can’t I stay at home too?”, Lilian complained, and Daphne sighed.

“Because school is important, I’d guess. Your mother had her best years at school,”, Harry said. Lilian looked up at them. “I think, at least.”

“You may not know mine, but you sure were having.”, Daphne replied, and Lilian, as if transfixed by their interaction, sat on the sink. At least she was still in her pajamas. “You canceled the exams second year. Can’t have more fun than that.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know I was talking with Hermione.”, he retorted, and Daphne snorted, a smile illuminating his face. “You’re forgetting that time I got called by the Goblet of Fire.”

“Nothing says quite fun as dying, truly,”, she laughed, and Lilian perked up. “You did look like dying during the Yule Ball. I was tempted to put you out of your misery.”

“A spell to my head was exactly what I would have needed, thank you very much. Maybe I would have danced better.”

“Mum, do you have any photos with uncle Harry?”, Lilian asked, pulling slightly on Daphne’s robes, and Daphne looked at her daughter. “When you were younger?”

She did have a few photos with Harry, but none of when they were younger than seventeen for obvious reasons.

“No, sweetheart. Harry and I only met in our last year.”, Daphne replied, and Harry, with a smile still gracing his face, went back to washing the dishes.

Lilian frowned, and Daphne could guess what was the next question.

“But isn’t Hogwarts tiny?”

“Interhouse prejudice was a problem, Lilian,”, Harry replied. “I was in Gryffindor, your mother in Slytherin, and it didn’t leave much room for friendships at first.”

“But that’s stupid!”, Lilian interjected, and Daphne messed up her daughter’s hair. If only that could have been the thinking during her childhood.

“Well, you better remember that when you go to Hogwarts, but for now, you have normal school. Go get ready, sweetheart,”, Daphne said, and Lilian, huffing slightly, got off the sink, going to her room. Daphne started drying the dishes, and when she heard the _click_ of Lilian’s door, she spoke up. “Could you, perhaps, help me chose a birthday gift for her?”

Harry seemed taken aback, staring at her with his familiar eyes.

“When is it?”, he asked, and Daphne told him the day - coincidentally, one of the days he’d be there for breakfast -, making him nod. “I see.”

“I hope you do. I was thinking about a potion kit for children, or perhaps putting her in little league Quidditch.”, Daphne put one of the plates aside, spelling it back in its proper place. “There was also a Great Wizard’s action figure of you, but I thought it’d be weird.”

Harry looked at her for a second, startled, but laughed.

“Of me, huh? Maybe I should look into that,”, he laughed once more, and Daphne offered him a soft smile.“Give her a Snitch, maybe. You did say she was a Seeker, and it’d be good practice.”

Daphne pondered for a second. A Golden Snitch, huh? She hadn’t considered it. She wondered if they sold entire sets, or just Snitches. Would there be one in a toy shop, for starters? And also, these had the tendency to not have a battery life - they would and could fly forever, if let. There was a Cornwall legend of one, wasn’t there…?

“What if it runs away?”, Daphne asked, and Harry smiled fondly at her.

“Snitches remember the first person that touched them. I think it’d come back.”, he touched her, skin against skin for one second, before going back to the dishes. “Guess I am your Snitch.”

“You’re being corny,”, she laughed, kissing his cheek softly. “But thank you for the idea, Harry. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“It’s nothing. I’d love to take her to practice or something.”, he said, but they both knew it wasn’t possible. Harry couldn’t get outside with a girl that looked almost like a carbon copy of him, in a magical society, without making headlines and speculation appear like fiendfyre - Daphne had been lucky no one on Portree had sold her out, but again, Portree had its own problems with the fae to care about the mundane.

Still, Harry spoke with a wistfulness that made her wonder if his sons weren’t interested in the sport. It’d be funny, actually - the sons of the youngest Seeker in Hogwarts and an ex-Chaser for the Hollyhead Harpies, uninterested in Quidditch. Daphne would pay a bit to see that discussion.

“What, doesn’t James enjoy Quidditch?”, she nudged, and Harry sighed once more.

“He does, and he also enjoys doings dangerous feints way too much for me and Ginny’s liking, so we’ve put some restrictions on it, which means I can’t take him because cheering when he survives a Wronski Feint is wrong, apparently.”, he smiled softly, and no one needed to know if Daphne’s heart softened for a moment. “As if she wouldn’t do the same.”

“You’re still in love with her?”, Daphne asked, before she could bit back her tongue, wincing as soon as the question finished leaving her lips.

“No, not really. I think I may have, once, but you stole my heart.”, he winked, making her blush. “I think Ginny accepts it, too. We’re friends, raising kids together, nowadays. Hell, I think she’s going out with someone, but who am I to call her out? I did it first, didn’t I?”

That was true. At least he could assume what they were doing was wrong, morally speaking. Part of her wanted to ask Harry if he was sure the kids were his, but James and Albus looked like him, so there wasn’t much to question in that regard.

Well, whatever. At least Daphne wouldn’t have to deal with an angry Ginevra anymore. Once had been more than enough.

“Besides,”, Harry continued, seemingly fighting a rather strong stain on the plate. Daphne didn’t have the heart to tell him it had been accidental magic on Lilian’s part to get rid of a piece of broccoli. “Ginny deserves to be happy as well.”

“You’re right. Also, that’s not coming out, it’s stained permanently.”, she pointed out, picking the plate from his hands and drying it. Harry laughed, moving swiftly and hugging her from behind. She laughed, and could feel him hum against her skin. “Stop, Lilian’s going to appear at any moment.”

“Then let’s have fun while we can, shall we?”, Harry said, and Daphne put the plate on its place just in time for him to turn her, slowly dancing to no music. Daphne quietly turned the radio on with a spell, and music cracked from its speakers, slow and quiet as it filled her kitchen. It was familiar, like she was eighteen once more, trying to rebuild Hogwarts but _someone_ didn’t know how to match wand movements to music,

Harry kissed her softly, his mouth tasting of coffee, and Daphne allowed him, one of her hands going through his dark hair as the other pulled him closer to her. The two of them were in their own little world, until -

“I wish you two would stop being gross,”, her daughter said, and Daphne, crashing back on Earth, separated from Harry. Her daughter sported a frown, and had it been Astoria and Draco, Daphne would have perhaps found it funny.

“Lilian, sweetheart, how long have you been there?”, Daphne asked, smoothing her clothes, and Lilian huffed.

“I heard the radio, so I came here to find you two being gross.”, Daphne glared at Harry when she heard him trying to stifle laughter. She took a deep breath before smiling as softly as she could.

“Well, then since you are ready, it’s time for school. Grab your backpack, you still have to go.”

Lilian huffed, but obeyed, and left just in time for Daphne to glare at Harry, who put his hands up, a smile lazily splayed across his face.

“It was funny, you have to admit it.”, he told her, and Daphne rolled her eyes at him. He kissed her once more, before Lilian came back. “Well, seems like I have to go, as well.”

“Have a safe day at work,”, Daphne told him, and he laughed as he put his coat on. “What, have the Aurors suddenly thrown themselves in every possible dangerous situation?”

“We take papercuts very seriously.”, Harry laughed, and Daphne offered him a smile as he crossed the threshold, messing up Lilian’s hair for a moment as he told her to take care. Lilian eyed him carefully - and cold sweat started to cling to Daphne’s skin - before nodding.

“Let’s go, Lilian,”, Daphne interrupted, picking up her purse with a spell, and Lilian nodded, going for the door. Daphne followed her daughter, and left Harry alone in her apartment. She hoped he locked the door, considering he was the one that opened it the most. Maybe she _should_ invest in a better lock.

She left Lilian at school, and went back home, stopping for a brief moment in front of a toy shop, staring at the colorful plastic world in front of her, eyes getting caught by a cat plushie. She still hadn’t decided what to give for Lilian’s birthday, but maybe a pet would be nice. A cat, perhaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: we timeskip


	14. Chapter 14

The schedule they worked out years ago somehow allowed for Harry to be present the morning where Lilian’s Hogwarts letter arrived, almost five years after the two had met.

Lilian, if Daphne could say, had grown up a good girl. She was smart, polite and generous, but also horribly innocent. Perhaps Daphne had sheltered her too much, but what parent hadn’t, after the war?

Still, maybe Daphne had done a too good of a job about it. It was almost as if Lilian hadn’t been raised by a Slytherin - which would make her parents have a screaming fit, had they even known about Lilian’s existence -, and while Daphne was half-glad about it, she was also half-horrified. However, in a post-war world, which child needed tact and cunning to survive in a snake pit?

The owl hooted, and Lilian, dressed up for the day already, picked the letter, taking Daphne from her thoughts. Harry smiled softly at his daughter, and the girl, who looked as excited as Daphne had ever seen, cracked the familiar red wax seal, picking up the parchment pages and trifling through them for a second, passing to Daphne the materials list and keeping to herself the acceptance letter.

“‘Dear Ms. Greengrass…’”, Lilian started reading, the words Daphne once read for herself familiar and comforting. The only difference was that the ambient Daphne had been in wasn’t in any bit similar to Lilian’s.

Daphne had been raised in a Manor, with distant parents. Her letter, from the moment she turned eleven, had been awaited with great anxiety, many disapproving looks, and several catty comments that perhaps the accidental magic she had displayed was Astoria’s. The arrival of her letter, during breakfast, had been a relief. Daphne had read that letter as if her continued existence depended on it - because it did. Had the letter never arrived, Daphne would have been considered a Squib and cast out.

She couldn’t help but wonder, casting a sly look at Harry, who seemed proud of Lilian, as well, how his family received the news. He never spoke of them. Sure, Daphne knew he hadn’t been raised by his parents, but information about them was never a thing he shared beyond the very basic - they were Muggles, and that was it. She couldn’t help but wonder how they had reacted. Had they been happy? She hoped they were. Still, if Harry all but refused to talk about his Muggle guardians, perhaps they had reactions that weren’t the norm.

“Ah, looks like I can take a cat with me! You hear that, Salem?”, Lilian hummed, and the fat black cat Daphne had given Lilian years ago barely rose its head, meowing for a second before falling back asleep. The name was awful, but Lilian had chosen it, even though Daphne almost begged her to pick literally any other name. In the end, Salem won the moment Lilian suggested putting the cat’s name as Hermione, and Daphne, wondering in which House her daughter would be sorted, conceded defeat.

“No owls for you, then?”, Daphne asked, eyeing the material list. Almost nothing had changed, just books being offered in their most recent editions, but it was familiar enough for Daphne to smile. Some things never changed, but she hoped others did.

“But then I can’t take Salem,”, Lilian pouted, putting a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Did you have an owl, mum?”

Daphne had had a toad. It was her most well-kept secret. She had kept it in an aquarium on her trunk with artificial lighting and took it, during second year, to live a free life near the Black Lake. At home, she claimed her sweet little toad died, and her parents, using that as an excuse, saw fit to give her no more pets, and that was it.

“No, I didn’t.”, she replied, in the end, shrugging, and Lilian frowned for a moment. “Hogwarts had a few in their Owlery, and I didn’t write much to my parents. You, however, have to write to me at least twice a week, you hear me, young lady?”

“Sure, mum,” Lilian replied, green eyes focusing on Harry. “What about you, uncle Harry?”

“I had a snowy owl. A gift, you see.”, he replied, eyes far away and _something_ in his voice Daphne couldn’t place. Daphne could remember his owl, pure white and soaring in the Great Hall, and she had seen it once or twice in the Owlery. A pretty creature, one that Daphne had no idea what end it had. Perhaps it had died naturally. Daphne hoped it so.

Lilian perked up.

“That’s cool!”, Lilian chirped, still as childish as ever. Daphne looked at the list of materials once more. Perhaps she could buy the things today and avoid whatever rush there would be later in the month.

“Lilian, sweetheart, why don’t we go buy your things today?”, Daphne asked, rising up, and Lilian looked excited. “We can get your wand, and I can teach you a few choice spells.”

Lilian smiled as brightly as the sun, making Harry laugh a bit as she rose up, going to her room to grab a cloak, and Daphne turned to Harry.

“I’d go with you, but me with a kid that looks like me, in Diagon Alley, spells trouble.”, he said, rising up before Daphne could even ask him anything. He kissed her quietly, and Daphne could understand - sure, Harry had done _something_ to/with Skeeter so that she wouldn’t write about Lilian, but that didn’t mean wizards didn’t gossip between themselves - and any gossip would end up growing, until it reached an unmanageable size; Daphne could only use whatever little she had to control it for so long.

“Sure. Have a nice day at work, then.”, Daphne smiled, and Harry, kissing her once more, left just as Lilian came out, wearing her travel robes (a gift from Blaise, once more).

“Be a nice kid, Lilian, and don’t bother your mother too much”, Harry hummed, leaving, and Lilian grinned.

“I always am, uncle Harry.”, Lilian replied, making Harry smile softly. “And I’ll only bother her enough.”

Harry chuckled, leaving, and Daphne looked to Lilian, who pocketed her material list, hair now in a carefully done braid.

“Very well, then, shall we go?”, Daphne asked, more of a rhetorical question than anything, _Accio’ing_ her purse, and the two of them left for Diagon Alley.

Lilian, as any eleven year old, was fascinated by the Alley, as if she had been raised by Muggles - which made Daphne wonder if perhaps she hadn’t, in fact, sheltered her daughter too much -, window-shopping like there was no tomorrow, and if was nostalgic; she had been much of the same, used to Portree’s open market. Daphne wondered how her parents had gotten her through Diagon Alley the first time, and then remembered _exactly_ how: they had stuck her at Malkin’s to get her robes fitted, while they went around, buying her stuff for her. Daphne hadn’t seen her stuff until she got back home, and even then, it was only for a moment before they sent her to the library, to study from other books so that hers would be kept pristine until school.

She, at the time, had only nodded, murmured a “yes, father” and left, but this wasn’t how it was going to be this time.

“Say, Lilian,”, Daphne started, and her daughter’s eyes went from the shop window she was looking - the Quidditch supplies shop, obviously - to her mother. “What do you say about buying your books while I go get the more uninteresting things? You can buy a few that catch your eye, too.”

Lilian had never really been a bookworm, but she had grown an interest in history books with age. Most of them focused - to Daphne’s relief - in the Founders era, but a scattered few were in the Second Wizarding War. Daphne had never seen Lilian reading too much on it, or looking into its photographs with a keen eye, but that didn’t mean Daphne had nothing to fear. If her daughter noticed...

Lilian nodded, and Daphne, biting back a sigh, passed her the book list, and a small pouch with a few galleons to pay for her shopping, leaving with her daughter instructions to wait for her in front of the shop as soon as she was done - and if it seemed like Daphne was taking too long, she was to go to Malkin’s and ask for her robes.

When Daphne saw her daughter disappear inside the shop, she took a deep breath and went looking for the familiar list she had never bought.

It was easy to find - most shops had something of a Hogwarts kit, considering much of it was the same, and Daphne bought a few knick-knacks to surprise Lilian with -, and soon after, with everything in hand, Daphne headed towards Malkin when she saw her daughter going there cautiously, smiling quietly to herself. Well, it wouldn’t hurt for Lilian to learn how to go to places alone, would it? She started to follow her daughter a few paces behind, wishing Lilian still would wear the bright backpacks, but the cloak was still a good marker. She had to remind herself to thank Blaise for that.

Lilian stopped briefly to see the display in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, seemingly stopping to see the candy display - Daphne remembered looking through the owl-order catalogue, wondering if she should buy something to cheer up Astoria, before deciding that maybe she shouldn’t mess with her sister’s weak constitution -, before shaking her head to herself, going on her way, and Daphne smiled. Maybe something for her to have fun with, besides books and studying.

But later; Daphne kept following her daughter, watching as she entered and seemed to talk with one of the shop’s attendants, and waited until Lilian disappeared inside to follow, entering the shop and wondering, when she saw who was inside, if maybe she shouldn’t do a double take and go back out. Of course Ginevra Weasley would be there, with her youngest daughter, and one of the multiple Weasley children. Daphne had no idea which - they had basically been rabbits for the past few years.

To make matters worse, the two kids were _talking_ excitedly, and while Ginevra did not seem to have noticed _who_ her daughter was, Daphne knew that if she did, matters could be worse.

Ginevra had been over Harry, alright; sure, Ginevra had begun seeing other people, as Harry had once told her; but one thing was to know that a daughter existed, and another different thing was to be faced with that very girl. Daphne put her best polite smile on, and approached Lilian quietly as the needles did their work on her.

“Lilian, sweetheart, who’s your friend?”, Daphne asked, making herself known, and Lilian turned to face her mother, as Ginevra started analyzing her through half-lidded eyes. The click on her head was audible, at least.

“This is Molly! She’s going to Hogwarts with me.”, Lilian grinned, and Molly- red hair, brown eyes, as Weasley as possible, the only thing to differentiate her the thick glasses she wore - smiled shyly, waving a little. “And that’s Molly's aunt and niece, they’re nice!”

“I can imagine.”, Daphne waved back to Molly, and Ginevra rose up, offering Lily Luna (the name still left a bitter taste in her mouth, even though it had been years) a small enchanted doll for the girl to play it, before rising up. “Ah, hello.”

“Hello, Daphne. Mind if we have a chat outside?”, Ginevra said, the smile plastered on her face as tight as Daphne’s. Daphne simply nodded and let her lead the way, telling Lilian in a low whisper she’d be right back, before going outside once more.

The Alley was crowded, as usual, but it seemed to have more children around, as if some kids couldn’t wait to buy their stuff. Daphne could understand, and watched, quiet for a brief moment, Ginevra, and couldn’t help but compare the woman in front of her to the last time they had seen each other. Back then, Ginevra had been filled to the brim with pregnancy-fueled rage, ready to destroy anyone who dared to get in the path of her picture-perfect family. Now, however, she seemed almost as if she didn’t care for it, but Daphne knew she did; Ginevra had the innate sixth sense of a pureblood to keep things as if a painting, but she wasn’t as strict on it. Perhaps whoever she was dating was doing a good number on her. Daphne hoped Ginevra was happy.

“So, it seems like my kid has taken a liking for your niece.”, Daphne started, and Ginevra chuckled.

“She looks like Harry.”, was all Ginevra said, and Daphne, for one brief second, was glad Harry hadn’t come with them. But then, Ginevra did spend most of her time with Harry, so perhaps she had a keener eye for this. “And she looks like Albus, too. Hogwarts will be rough on her, if people notice.”

“ _If._ ”, she replied, taking a sarcastic smile off of Ginevra. Daphne could understand - Hogwarts was a small place, but really, how hard could it be to fool a bunch of children?

“That’s a big bet you’re willing to make, Daphne, but it’s none of my business.”, Ginevra shrugged. “I mean, it’s your kid. You’re the one throwing her to the lions. Is that safe for you two?”

Daphne looked at her through half-lidded eyes. How hadn’t she been put in Slytherin was a mystery.

“If you want me to send Lilian to Beauxbatons for safety, let me tell you, my kid doesn’t know french.”, Daphne said, slowly, and Ginevra smiled, _something_ playing on her lips. Daphne couldn’t exactly place it, but she could say it wasn’t malice, at least.

“Never suggested it. How is Harry, by the way?”, the way Ginevra deflected the subject at hand was pretty interesting, considering she lived with him. Ginevra would know better than Daphne, shouldn’t she?

“He’s doing well, thanks for asking. Shouldn’t you check on your niece? I mean, she is inside, alone, with my vicious snake of a child,”, she suggested, and Ginevra, as if reminding that she had left Molly - and Lily Luna - alone, paled, nodded and went back inside. Daphne counted that as a victory for herself and silently asked forgiveness to Lilian for calling her a vicious snake. Her daughter couldn’t be a snake - she was way too sweet for it.

Still, Daphne took a breath, and went back inside, smiling softly to Lilian for a moment while she handled payment, keeping an ear out as the two children chatted about Houses and such things. Daphne had been alone with Tracey that day, and they both knew already in which House they were to be sorted - there weren’t many options for them, at the time.

Her daughter, however, would have as many options as she would like - well, _maybe_ Daphne would be just the tiniest disappointed if her daughter was a Hufflepuff, or, Merlin forbid, a Gryffindor, like her father, but she would love her all the same.

When it had been her turn to be sorted, her parent’s words rang through her head very clearly - _Slytherin, or else_ -, and the Sorting Hat had heard it as well; she had been a Hatstall between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and Daphne was sure her parents had been the only reason why she had been sent to Slytherin, in the end.

Merlin, that trip to Diagon Alley was dragging memories out of her mind, wasn’t it? She had to finish it as soon as possible. Daphne squared back her shoulders when she finished paying, and patiently waited near the door for Lilian to finish being fitted. When Ginevra passed by with Lily Luna and her niece (did the girl have a mother?), they exchanged looks, and pretended, as politely as possible, that their children weren’t related. Lilian was finished soon after, and as such, they headed towards Ollivanders.

The shop was still exactly as she remembered it, hidden between shops and buildings, the inside seemingly abandoned. Lilian hesitated to open the door, and looked to Daphne just once before nodding to herself and opening the door, letting the dusty air inside greet her as the bell rang above her head.

The shop seemed unchanged by the war, as if time had frozen inside; proof enough was its owner, who seemed to not age a day, bringing himself to the front. Ollivander looked at them, taking in Lilian for a moment.

“Good morning. A wand for the young lady, hmm?”, he started, and Daphne couldn’t help but smile as well as Lilian stepped forward. He looked to Daphne and nodded. “I remember the wand I sold your mother. Ten inches, chestnut, dragon heartstring.”

Daphne couldn’t help but touch the pocket her wand was, remembering how scared she was not one wand would react to her, how scared that no wand would match her and that it’d be revealed that she had no magic at all. In the end, after a pathetic five tries - Astoria took longer, as she well remembered, and Daphne would lie if she said she hadn’t wonder if her sister wasn’t a changeling at the time - she got her wand, who had served her well for the past years.

“And I remember your father’s wand, as well. You have his eyes, young lady,”, Ollivander hummed, making Daphne break out of her thoughts as Lilian’s excited “wait, really?!” echoed through the store. “Eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather. I wonder what yours will be. Hold out your dominant arm, please.”

With a flick of his wand, measuring tapes started flying by as soon as Lilian put her right arm forward, giggling a bit as Ollivander explained to Lilian his process, while Daphne wondered if she maybe she should find an excuse to flee and buy a wand somewhere else - Merlin, at this point, even one of the sketchy wands found in the Portree market that made her nose itch with accumulated magic would be preferable -, preferably somewhere where the wandmaker wouldn’t make Lilian question who was her father.

She had asked, once or twice - school projects, as Daphne learned later -, and Daphne had given the exact same answer: her father was a complicated subject matter, one that Daphne would tell her when she was older, and until then, Lilian could consider Blaise her father, if she would like. When Blaise learned of that, he had just gifted Lilian more, and it made Daphne consider retiring her statement.

Ollivander nodded to himself, the measuring tapes retracting, and he picked a box seemingly at random, taking a wand out of it.

“This one, please. Rowan, unicorn hair, twelve inches.”, he said, offering the wand to Lilian. “Swish it, please.”

“You knew my father?”, Lilian asked, doing as asked, and Ollivander chuckled as several boxes fell. He took the wand from her “What was he like?”  
“He was a good man. Here, this one,”, he handed her another wand, and Lilian grabbed it carefully. “Rosewood, Phoenix feather, thirteen inches. Try it, please.”

Lilian nodded, swishing it twice before a shower of pink sparks flew from the tip, and Ollivander smiled softly, as Daphne, giving a step forward, patted her head quietly.

“That’s it?”, Lilian asked, with a frown, and Daphne laughed as she went through her purse for the galleons needed. If she could remember it well enough, it was…

“I’m afraid it is, miss Greengrass. Seven galleons, please.”, Daphne found the necessary quantity, and gave them to Lilian, who in turn, paid for her wand. “Thank you for your business.”

“It’s nothing, sir!”, Lilian chirped, still childish as ever, and Daphne gently shepherded her away from the shop, deciding to take Lilian to eat. Midway through, however, Lilian looked up. “Mum, who’s my father?”

“You’re too young, sweetheart.”, Daphne replied, tersely, and Lilian huffed.

“But I’m eleven! I’m not a baby anymore, mum,”, she whined, and Daphne took a deep breath. Being eleven was too young, but her daughter wouldn’t understand it, not until she was older.

“Too young, I say.”, Daphne stopped, pulling her daughter into a corner that didn’t see as much traffic. “Lilian, dear. Your father is a delicate subject matter, and I’d rather not put you through it yet. Please trust your mother with this, alright?”

Lilian seemed a bit upset, but she nodded. Daphne really didn’t want her daughter dealing with the media at eleven, if the secret got out; perhaps when she was older. Seventeen seemed like a good age to let her know.

“Alright, but can I have ice cream for lunch, then?”, Lilian asked, a shy smile playing on her lips, and Daphne laughed a bit.

“Alright, but just this once. You deserve something nice as a gift for going to Hogwarts, after all,”, Daphne hummed, gaining a satisfied little yell from Lilian. Her daughter didn’t need that knowledge during Hogwarts - not when her half-siblings would go to school with her. Ignorance was a bless, or so she had heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright So  
> we're going into Hiatus Town. im starting college soon-ish and i rlly don't wanna leave yall hanging w this story so i'm entering a one-month hiatus so that I can write this story to completion (it's just a few chapters more prolly) and in august i come back to posting. please have this chapter until them & thank u for ur comprehension


	15. Chapter 15

September first came before she had expected, which just made Daphne wonder if perhaps she shouldn’t buy a calendar of some sort. Still, she had things to do, such as take Lilian to the 9 ¾ station, thankful the Ministry had given a morning off to its workers who had kids. Daphne was almost sure that everyone was going to go to work after lunch, kids or not, whoever.

“Do you have everything ready?”, she asked her daughter, eyeing carefully Salem, who meowed impatiently from his cage. They were approaching the trap door, and Lilian, intent on carrying her trunks, nodded. “Alright, then remember - you just have to go straight through. Don’t think about it too much, just go, and wait for me on the other side. Ready?”

“Ready,”, Lilian replied, eyes focused on the barrier, and making a quick beeline for it. Daphne kept careful watch over her child, and only went through it herself when she saw the last of Lilian’s hair disappear. It was a bit nostalgic, even if her parents had basically walked her through it and promptly after went home.

Ah, well, it wasn’t a day to dwell in the past. Daphne shook her head, and went through the barrier, landing in the smoke-filled station, touching her daughter in the shoulder.

“Well done, sweetheart,”, she said, and Lilian smiled. “Now, do you want to go on the train already, or do you want to stall a bit more? There’s a cafe here, we can have something to eat.”

Lilian seemed to consider her question for a whole five seconds, and Daphne couldn’t help but smile more. Her little girl was so cute when she wanted to be.

“Can I go inside the train?”, she asked, and Daphne nodded. Of course an eleven-year-old would like to go inside the train already - to an excitable child barely waiting to go to Hogwarts for the first time, it’d seem as if it was going to depart at any minute.

“Sure. Do you want help with your trunk?”, Daphne asked, and Lilian shook her head. She couldn’t help but tear up a little - kids grew up so fast. “Then go ahead, sweetheart. I’ll stay until the train departs, so if you need anything, I’ll be here, okay?”

“Alright.”, Lilian said, eyes focused on the red engine. She then directed her emerald eyes at Daphne, and hugged her. “Thanks, mum.”

“Don’t forget to write, sweetheart,”, Daphne replied, messing with Lilian’s hair a bit, and her little girl let go, nodding quietly before leaving without looking back. Daphne watched as her daughter disappeared inside the train, and sighed. When it had been her time, she had been a bit afraid of what was to come - but soon after she had met Tracey, and those fears had been partially assuaged. Partially.

She at least hoped not so much crazy stuff happened at Hogwarts - she was sure she had seen a Cerberus on the forbidden corridor, and there was also the entire Triwizard thing, and that time in her second year when exams had been cancelled, and of course, the fact there had been such a thing as not one Battle of Hogwarts, but _two_.

Well, that probably wouldn’t happen anymore, considering that Harry wasn’t a student anymore. Probably.

“They grow up so fast,”, a familiar voice said, a wistful sigh with it. Daphne turned to face Harry, fully dressed in his Auror clothing, and she stared at him, confused. “Did you know that Aurors patrol station 9 ¾  on heavy traffic days, such as this one?”

“I had no idea.”, Daphne replied, too baffled to form a better answer. Harry shrugged. “Did you plan this?”

“Considering I couldn’t very well stroll here with you, a bit, yes. It was just a matter of signing up to work an extra shift, no big deal.”, he shrugged once more. “I wish I could’ve talked to her, maybe tell her to go to Gryffindor.”

“Listen, I _know_ I’m a bit lax when it comes to instilling inter-House prejudice in my daughter, but that’s taking it too far, Harry.”, she replied, the sound of the train chime resonating through the full station. She saw Lilian pop out of a window, waving to Daphne, and she waved back, noticing the girl she had met at Diagon Alley was with her.

“Ah, so she made friends with Molly? That’s good.”, he hummed, waving a bit to Molly and Lilian. Molly seemed to notice, smiling brightly. “Ginny did tell me that she had met with you, but I didn’t think they’d be friends.”

“Why is that?”, Daphne asked, eyes still on Lilian as the train moved north, her not so little girl grinning brightly, waving harder. Perhaps she had noticed Daphne’s companion? She had always taken a liking to Harry, after all.

“Molly is a bit of a lonely girl, that’s all,”, Harry offered, cryptical, and as Lilian disappeared in smoke, going officially to Hogwarts. “Percy never _really_ took to the family after the war, I think. Survivor’s guilt, I think.”

“I see.”, Daphne didn’t, but she had heard that one of the Weasley twins had died during the war. Perhaps it had something to do with that. She faced Harry, and he had a soft smile playing on his lips. “Don’t you have work?”

“Don’t be cruel,”, he said, touching the small of her back lightly. Harry looked way too handsome with the Aurors robes for his own damn good. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”, Daphne replied, and had a good idea, letting a smile taking hold of her face. “Would it hurt you too much if you came in your Auror robes?”

Harry looked surprised at her for a second, but nodded, disappearing into the crowd, and Daphne gave one last look in the direction the train had gone. Lilian would tell her tomorrow which House she’d be sorted. Until then, she had work to do. A new batch of the most recent potion experiment had arrived, and she had a few new test subjects.

The next morning, Daphne was awoken by the smell of burnt coffee - it had been more than a decade, when would he learn to properly make it? - and rose up quietly, hearing Harry coo to an owl in the kitchen. She smiled to herself, deciding to do something nice with her hair for once, and went to the kitchen as soon as possible, finding Harry, in fact, saying sweet nothings to an owl, a letter on the kitchen table and the bitter smell of coffee burnt to ashes in the air.

“Sometimes I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t teach you how to make coffee,”, Daphne said, and Harry smiled. “No, really. It has been way too much time.”

“Speaking of time, I believe that’s a Hogwarts letter from Lilian, isn’t it?”, he hummed and Daphne smiled, picking the letter and opening it, being greeted by Lilian’s familiar scrawl.

She scanned the letter for what was important - she had made friends other than Molly, the train ride was fun, the boat ride was pretty, Hogwarts was _huge -_ until finding Lilian’s relate on the Sorting experience.

She rose up to meet Harry’s emerald eyes, and he looked at her, curious.

“This is all _your fault_. I knew I should have said it was Blaise’s kid.”, Daphne passed him the letter, putting her head in her hands. Harry looked at her, one eyebrow raised, and read the letter as well. “I raised a Gryffindor.”

“I hardly see the issue,”, he replied, grinning. “Besides, Blaise, hm? We’re nothing alike.”

“Oh, yes you are. Both of you are playing with my poor heart.”, Daphne rose up, picking up the letter from Harry and putting it on the table. The owl flew away, and Daphne watched it for only a brief second before Harry’s arms encircled her.

“Ah, I see. Seems like there' an inspection on the Zabini house, today, so…”, Harry joked, and Daphne laughed. 

“Jealous much, Harry?”, she asked, playing with the button of his Auror robes. Merlin, that always had been a weakness of her - Harry, in an uniform.

Harry chuckled, hands resting on her hips.

“Not a bit, why do you ask?”, Harry replied, kissing her, and Daphne smirked. He _was_ jealous. How cute. Daphne kissed him back and let herself go. She could afford to be five minutes late into work, she guessed. Who would it hurt, really? Her experiments? No, they were already under observation. She guided Harry back to her room, smiling to herself as he took off her clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back, lads, and with more chapters! this should be a smooth ride to the end. enjoy!


	16. Chapter 16

“Hey, Greengrass, are you done messing with that iron box?”, asked her boss, and Daphne, hunched over the iron box with a probable faerie item inside, looked up.

“No.”, Daphne really wanted to finish melding it, and while yes, she did understand that if her boss ordered her to do something, her little project to be solved will have to be put on hold, and who knew what would be the object’s reaction, when allowed to steep in magic. 

“Well, then you should stop, because the owner of it is wreaking havoc, and the Aurors asked for it back.”, he continued, and Daphne frowned. The owner? “A little girl, apparently. Very wild accidental magic, but they can’t do anything because she will ever only answer to the box. Can you take it upstairs? And… Repair it, if you broke?”

Daphne looked at her half-open box, and nodded. Her boss, visibly relieved, went to check on another station. Daphne stared at the box, almost seeing what was inside, and taking a deep breath, fixed it. Whatever was inside, was important enough for an emissary to be sent out.

The fairies hardly ever, nowadays, interacted with the outside world; Portree, Daphne figured, was something of a gate and a market, a way to get fresh blood inside without getting out. There was a reason she had been warned to not take “free” samples from strangers, and it was because, with the fey, nothing was really free. There always a payment to be done, if you took something from them. Today, Daphne had something of them, and it was being asked back. She didn’t want the fae to be indebted to her.

She hurried to the Auror office, box in her arms as safe as possible, listening to people comment on the apparent situation. Everyone seemed to describe the presumed fairy differently - ranging from a child to a creature to an old crone -, and Daphne, with every mumbled report, walked faster, wondering, in a far-off corner of her mind, what the fairy would be like, to her.

Daphne would’ve knocked on the office’s door, but alas, it seemed like every Auror was crowded in the hallway. She looked at her box, then directed her eyes to the door, where she could see just a glimpse of the magical hurricane going inside. With a deep breath, Daphne started elbowing people out of her way. It wasn’t the polite thing to do, but matters were urgent as they were, and the box felt like it was made of lead, instead of iron. 

“Hey, what are you...?”, a familiar voice asked, grabbing her arm, and Daphne looked at Harry, his eyes focused on the box. “Is that the box it is looking for?”

“It?”, Daphne raised an eyebrow, and Harry shrugged.

“I see it as a snake. A really big one.”, he did mumble something that sounded vaguely like “I wish I spoke parseltongue still”, but Daphne chose to ignore it. He wasn’t part of the Slytherin line, after all. He motioned to the box, and Daphne kept her elbowing situation going forward, only now with company. “Is that…?”

“What it’s presumed to be looking for? Yes, seems like it.”, Daphne shrugged, approaching the door, where there was a small shield spell holding the items floating inside from reaching the outside. Daphne couldn’t see inside.

“Then why didn’t it go to you?”, Harry asked. He tapped the shoulder of someone, and he looked back at Harry. “Hey, seems like Unspeakable Greengrass got the box.”

“Thank Merlin, we’re already strapped for supplies as it is,”, whoever it was replied, making space for Daphne to go through. “Have the fun of your life.”

Daphne didn’t see how, exactly, she was going to have fun, but she looked at Harry, and nodded to him. She wasn’t sure how to convey that, if anything were to happen to her, Lilian should stay with him, when there was almost the entire Auror office listening in, but she hoped he got the message. Or, better yet, he wouldn’t need to be told - he’d do it himself. If only, though. Daphne took a deep breath and dived in, and somehow, the flying items seemed to avoid her as she made a beeline for the screaming fairy. Daphne, however, heard nothing but silence. The scream wasn’t as much as physical as a heavy, foreboding feeling she had inside her head.

“You have the box,”, it said, no voice that ears could capture, inside Daphne’s head. Daphne stared at the old crone, the exact same woman that in the fairy dust stall, and wondered if it could be possible for one person to be in two places at the same time, or if the old crone had abandoned her spot.

She put the box on the floor and fell to her knees, levitating it away while refusing to look into the old crone’s eyes or general direction. There was a sound of metal against metal when the box was caught, and Daphne let go of her spell. Her eyes were focused on a spot on the floor, and when she sensed feet approaching, she closed them.

“I recognize you,”, the voice said, still not a physical sensation. Daphne did not raise her head, even though every instinct in her body told her to do so. “You’re one of us.”

“No. I am a witch.”, she replied, quiet, and the voice laughed. “You may be thinking of my sister.”

“Oh,  _ her _ . I do know her. Still, very well. The box is back with us. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”, the question was rhetoric, Daphne reminded herself, but it wouldn’t be polite to ignore.

“Yes. Take it and go back.”, Daphne wondered if that could count as a request, but the fae only laughed. The presence disappeared, and she only opened her eyes when the sound of things hitting the floor heavily ended.

In front of her, the Auror office was untouched, empty as if she had arrived before anyone else. Daphne rose up, cleaning her Unspeakable robes, and looked behind, where the other Aurors seemed shell-shocked, just Harry with a too satisfied grin on his face. He waved minimally to her, and Daphne rolled her eyes.

The fae were an absolute nightmare of politeness to deal with, but if a bunch of Aurors couldn’t handle that, it was a wonder how they ever handled some of the older pureblood families.

On their defense, though, they didn’t have the box - and whatever it contained - with them. She’d let it pass. Daphne strode to the door, smiling politely to the Aurors.

“Will this be all?”, she asked, the smile strained on her face, and if the nervous mumbling was any indication, yes, this  _ would  _ be all. She went to pass through the crowd, and noticed Harry was accompanying her, making an inquisitive sound to ask why.

He simply grinned.

“Well, the savior of the Auror office deserves a proper escort, don’t you think?”, he said, and Daphne tried to understand his logic, hitting the elevator’s button. “I mean, how are we to know that thing won’t come attack you because you had… Whatever it wanted?”

Oh, Harry was having fun with that. Daphne allowed her smile to become natural, laughing just the tiniest bit. He always had fun with these sort of cases that just bordered on the weird, even though he was a wizard himself and everything had a tendency to go for the weird. Something Muggle, Daphne was sure, even though she had never asked.

"How is Lilian?", Harry asked, in a whisper, as if the walls had ears - and they probably had. Probably. -, and Daphne smiled, remembering the letter their daughter had sent her.

"Oh, she's doing well. Told me that she's doing very well in Potions, and that she had saved a potion from blowing up, even though it had some odd colored fumes, but I trust Millicent to know how to air a room."

Harry's lip twitched, as if he found something amusing. Perhaps it had to do with the fact he was a disgrace with Potions. Daphne smiled softly, hearing the elevator stop, deciding to have a subject change.

“I wish I knew what was on that box,”, she sighed, entering the open elevator, finding it curiously devoid of people. Were the rest of the Ministry workers too afraid of leaving their desks and meeting the fairy? Well, that was reasonable. Daphne would be afraid as well, were her in their position. She clicked the button that would lead her to the Unspeakable’s office, and started thinking. “It was probably something important enough to get back, but not important enough to not let a normal person have it.”

“A potion, maybe?”, Harry suggested, shrugging as he stayed by her side, shoulders almost touching. There was the odd, almost magnetic attraction there always seemed to have between them, and Daphne wondered if she could get away with kissing him without anyone seeing. Probably not.

“No, they don’t use potions same as we do. Theirs is more… Solid.”, she started, trying to explain what she knew.

“Solid? Like ice cubes?”, Harry asked, raising one eyebrow. 

“No, like food. And their food ties you to their realms, which is why you don’t eat anything anyone offers you. If you eat from them, you’re indebted to them, and a debt to the fae is one that is hard to pay,”, Daphne explained, and Harry made a comprehensive sound. “Though, most of the stall-owners are human. You’re probably safe from them.”

“And here I thought stranger danger wasn’t about fairies,”, Harry joked, making Daphne laugh a bit. “Seems like even then we aren’t safe from them.”

“Are we ever safe from fairies?”, Daphne replied, and Harry, shoulders trembling with barely contained laughter, kissed her softly. Oh, this was definitely wrong - what if someone saw! -, but it was also rather nice. Perhaps Granger knew something about office affairs, after all.  She let go of Harry just as the elevator came to a stop, stepping aside.

He cleared his throat minimally, blushing _just so_ , and Daphne offered him a soft smile.

“Thank you for accompanying me here, Auror Potter, but as you can see,”, Daphne started, walking out of the elevator, Harry not accompanying her, just staring with his emerald green eyes at her. “, there are no more of the fae here. Thank you, though.”

“Well, being cautious is always good, Unspeakable Greengrass,”, he said, polite as he could be. He probably could go toe to toe with a fairy, but would lose in the end. “Thank you for the help.”

“It was nothing,”, she hummed, as the elevator door closed on her. Daphne sighed, content, and turned back to face her boss, who stared down at her, seemingly have fun. “Boss.”

“Greengrass,”, he said, nodding quickly. Daphne wondered how much he had seen. “How was it?”

“Ah, the usual when dealing with the fae. Lots of fear-mongering, none of the action.”, Daphne shrugged, and her boss nodded slowly. He didn’t sound like he was from Portree, as well, but she figured that, at some point, working with was was unspeakable meant working with the fay. “May I go back to my station? I have a project to go back to.”

Her current project was finding a new project to work on, but of all the people that didn’t need to know that, her boss was in first place.

“Sure, Greengrass.”, Daphne was almost sure her boss knew about her and Harry, but chose to not discuss it at the current moment - the satisfied smirk on his face spoke enough. Ah, well. Not like he could speak about it, could he? What happened in the Department of Mysteries tended to stay there, after all.


	17. Chapter 17

Lilian had come back from school for winter break, and Daphne waited in the crowded Station, sighing quietly. Her daughter’s letters had been detailed, almost vividly painting her first year. Lilian did say she had something to show Daphne, which just made her worry what could it be. Perhaps she had found out? Her letters sounded normal, so there was a small chance that wasn’t it. Maybe it was some spell or another. 

The train arrived at the station, and with it, a smoke cloud; Daphne coughed, wishing wizards strived more for function than aesthetics, and hoped her clothes didn’t stink like smoke the rest of the day. She had other places to be, after all.

“Mum!”, called Lilian, and Daphne blinked quickly, wondering if her daughter had jumped out of a window to be out so quickly. Daphne remembered being stuck on a line forever while waiting to get out of the train. Behind her, Molly, the only symbol of a House affiliation being her nails painted blue and bronze. Her daughter, meanwhile, had her hair tied up with a red bow, and Daphne wondered how that had happened. Sure, she had had three months to get used to the idea, but theory and practice, as always, were two different things.

Still, Lilian was her daughter, being a Gryffindor or not. Daphne smiled, waving.

“Lilian, dear, and Molly, I presume?”, she hummed, and the Weasley girl nodded.

“Yes, Mrs. Greengrass, I’m Molly Weasley.”, the girl offered a small curtsey, and Daphne smiled. Perhaps she was a Weasley. But someone had raised her right. Daphne offered the girl a nod, and Lilian grinned to her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Molly. I hope Lilian isn’t causing you too much trouble,”, Daphne replied, smiling when Lilian protested, blushing, and Molly shook her head. 

“Lily isn’t trouble, if anything, _I_ am,”, Molly said, but Daphne froze. Of course the nickname to Lilian would be Lily - Daphne may have had named her daughter for Harry’s mother, but she had always refrained calling Lilian by the actual name, as if it wasn’t something that others, who didn’t know why she was called that, wouldn’t do it.

“Yeah, I’m an angel,”, Lilian huffed.

“Let’s… Not go that far.”, Daphne laughed while Lilian spluttered at Molly’s remark, and the girl pushed her glasses up her nose. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Greengrass, but I’ll be going. Lily, see you soon?”

Molly smiled, starting to move away, and Lilian blushed brightly. Now that was curious.

“Wait, let me say goodbye with you! Mum, excuse me,”, Lilian said, leaving with Daphne her trunk as she went with Molly. Daphne watched her daughter carefully, noticing her approaching a boy with turquoise hair with a Hufflepuff scarf, talking excitedly with Harry.

That spelled  _ disaster  _ in full capitalized letters, and Daphne could hear sirens go off in her head as Lilian approached Harry, but, Merlin bless, she seemed more focused on the turquoise-haired boy, chatting his ear off. Molly spoke with Harry, and he talked for a brief moment with Lilian, who seemed confused, but quickly recuperated, chatting a bit more with them before making a vague motion to where Daphne was and leaving.

When Lilian approached, Daphne noticed she seemed upset, and she looked at Harry, wondering if, perhaps, she shouldn’t go and give him a piece of her mind. She could probably conjure a pair of strong words for him, Daphne was sure.

“What happened?”, she asked, eyes facing Lilian, forgetting Harry. “Are you okay?”

“Why did uncle Harry pretend to not know me, mum?”, she asked, eyes wet with tears, and Daphne - 

Daphne felt like the cruelest person in the entire world. She had kept her daughter’s father a secret, and now that the two of them were close, it couldn’t happen in public without raising suspicion. After all, how was Harry supposed to explain how he knew his ex-girlfriend’s daughter? There were too many secrets.

Daphne, however, did her best to smile, messing up a bit of her daughter’s hair.

“Well, perhaps he didn’t want Molly to ask how you two knew each other?”, Daphne offered, and her daughter furrowed her brow. She needed a subject change, and fast. “So, Lilian dear, why don’t you tell me more about that boy with colorful hair? You seemed quite interested in him.”

Lilian blushed, and Daphne started moving, going to the Muggle entrance, Lilian just behind her.

“That’s Teddy, he’s a Prefect, and…”, Lilian bit her lower lip, and Daphne smirked. Now that was interesting.

“Do I sense a crush?”, Daphne hummed, and Lilian was properly scandalized. Oh, it _definitely_ was a crush.

“No! He’s just really nice. He offers help on the library on some subjects, and I’m a bit bad at Transfiguration, and Teddy’s really good at it…”, Lilian starts, the blush only deepening. That would be fun. 

“I see, sweetheart. Does Teddy have a girlfriend?”, Daphne asked, and Lilian huffed.

“He does, and she’s just as nice.”, her daughter seemed a bit put off, and Daphne had to bit back a laugh. Ah, to be young and in love. Daphne had no idea what that was, at Lilian’s age, but she hoped for the best.

At Lilian’s age, she had a vague idea of what was expected of her - to be a good girl, to have the best grades, and to be a good wife to whatever man she would be married off when she was finished with schooling. Her luck had been that the side her parents fought for had lost, and she had been able to seize the Greengrass leadership; otherwise, she would be a pretty trophy wife to some old man. Eleven-year-old Daphne would be amazed at what she had become.

Well, perhaps not so much, she thought to herself, smiling at Lilian. Eleven-year-old Daphne would be aghast at the fact she had become a single mother. It was for the best, however.

“Well, sweetheart, I’ll hope for the best for you, then.”, Daphne hummed, and Lilian grinned. “Now, why don’t you choose what we have for lunch?”

“I want ice cream.”, Daphne wasn’t sure why she had asked, but laughed nonetheless.

“Alright, but just this time, okay?”, Daphne answered. “And after ice cream, we’re getting something for you to eat.”

“But that’s not dessert, mum,”, Lilian whined, and Daphne smiled. "Dessert is supposed to be sweet!"

“You’re having dessert for lunch, nothing is fairer than lunch for dessert,”, she hummed. Lilian groaned, and Daphne kept her laughter to herself.


	18. Chapter 18

Christmas was a novelty affair, as always. She and Lilian went over to Astoria’s, and Daphne did her very best to not strangle her ex-classmates, who Draco dutifully invited every year. Daphne knew why - most of them either had parents and family exiled outside the country or in Azkaban, so it made sense to have a communal Christmas party as if they were still Hogwarts students -, but it didn’t mean Daphne didn’t wish she could drink the night away. The perks of having a child to take care of, she supposed.

Still, Lilian found it fun - she played with her cousin Scorpius, with Tracey’s kid, Mattie (who went to Durmstrang, because Tracey preferred it, saying that there would be _ no way  _ Hogwarts would be safe when Potter’s kids went there. Daphne felt it was a _very_ subtle jab at her, considering that Mattie and Lilian were supposed to be in the same year), with Pansy and Theo’s twins, Nerine and Nicholas. Daphne didn’t find it as fun when Lilian came home knowing something she _shouldn’t_ , at her age - mostly spells of darker nature -, but it was difficult to pinpoint which kid had taught what. The only one she could trust was Scorpius, and even then, it was barely; after all, he was still _Astoria’s_ kid.

Daphne drank her champagne slowly, an eye on the kids, huddled over _something_ with great interest, and an ear on the conversation.

“And as I was saying, Daphne, does Lilian know?”, Pansy asked, and Daphne turned to face her friend. She had no idea what Pansy had been saying.

“Know  _ what _ , exactly?”, she replied, faking innocence, and Pansy rolled her eyes. Theo just gave her a stern look, while Astoria and Blaise, exchanging knowing looks, sighed.

“You know very well what I’m asking. She has a right, you know. Her half brother is going to Hogwarts next year, and I’m sure you don’t want to answer, during Christmas next year, that sort of question. It’d ruin the festive mood.”, Pansy used her own glass to point to Daphne, and Tracey shushed her. “No, shut up, Davies. Listen, Daphne, she looks exactly like Potter as a kid, you know.”

“Did you spend too much time staring at an eleven-year-old Potter recently, then?”, Astoria chirped in, making Draco have to bite back a laugh. Pansy shot him a dark look. “And the point Pansy makes, as weird as it is, is true. Lilian has to know.”

“I do plan to tell her, so I’m not sure why I’m suddenly being ganged on. I thought I was between friends, but I see it's not the case.”

“When you're going to tell her, in your deathbed?”, Pansy snorted, and Theo sighed once more.

“I’m going to take Daphne’s defense, here.”, Blaise started, and Daphne nodded to him. “Listen, Pansy, being the kid of a famous person is not easy.”

“Your mom _wouldn’t_ be famous if she hadn’t killed nine men,”, Tracey chipped in, making Blaise sigh.

“First, those were accidents, and second, I’m sure Theo here agrees with me. Weren’t we gawked upon, like we were two perfect copies of our parents?”, Blaise looked at Theo, and he seemed to consider the question for a moment.

While Blaise’s mother was something of a black widow - she was on her tenth husband already -, Theo’s father was known for having murdered his mother and tried to go after him, and only had survived because he had been able to floo call an uncle, who had come and knocked his father out. Somehow, Mr. Nott had been able to not go to Azkaban - Daphne’s mother did remark something about greased palms, but she couldn’t very well remember it -, raising Theo as coldly as possible.

“Sorry, Pansy, Blaise is right. I do think it was _you_ , in fact, who asked me about the case after that Thestral class…”, Theo remarked, making Pansy blush furiously. Daphne smirked to her champagne flute, drinking another sip.

“Back to the subject at hand, Daphne, you  _ should  _ tell Lilian. Millie told me that some teachers are whispering about her looks already.”, Pansy’s subject change was apt, but it only made Daphne’s blood run cold, trying to remember which teachers that had taught her during her years at Hogwarts were still around. McGonagall, Flitwick, perhaps Binns...

“You can say Longbottom’s name, Pansy, it’s okay,”, Draco interrupted Daphne's train of thought, piping up for once. “Also, I think it’s none of our business, really. Unless, of course, one of you is the real father, and Daphne has been lying about the father to us for the past twelve or so years. Would make for an interesting development, if I can say so.”

Daphne had never been more pleased with Draco being her brother in law, finishing her drink, deciding to end this conversation at once.

“Lilian’s father is who I say it is. End of discussion. I’ll tell her when she is older.”, Dahne decreed, and Pansy huffed.

“Thirty  _ truly  _ is an appropriate age.”, looking at her empty flute, Daphne wondered if she could get away with throwing it on Pansy’s head. Merlin, what bug had bitten her? Was she _Skeeter_ , now?

Something flesh-colored flew in the direction of the group of huddled kids, and Daphne looked at them, now whispering quietly. She looked at them with half-lidded eyes, trying to discover whatever had caused such commotion, and she wasn’t the only one, Astoria rising up and smiling at the kids.

“Hey, children, why don’t you come here and show whatever you have that is so interesting?”, she called, and Mattie was the first to pop up.

“It’s nothing, aunt Astoria, Nick is just showing the Weasley’s Wheezes joke kit!”, Daphne mouthed to Theo “you gave them  _ that _ ?”, and he shrugged, pointing to Pansy. 

“Well, then have fun, Mattie,”, Astoria hummed, sitting down. She then looked at Pansy. “If Scorp becomes a bird in the middle of the night, Parkinson, we’re going to have a nice chat.”

“I’m so scared,”, Pansy retorted, and Astoria simply smiled. Daphne looked at Lilian, who seemed to be looking at their table with a furrowed brow, as if thinking on something - but when she noticed Daphne looking, her daughter relaxed, smiling and waving, before going back to her little group.

It reminded her of her own childhood - the Malfoys hosted a few of these, but grander. Compared to the one Draco hosted, it was disappointing, but better. She had known her friends during those, but the friendships never had really flourished until they had all gone to Hogwarts; mostly, on Daphne’s side, because her parents didn’t allow her to use the family owl. She hoped Lilian remained friends with these kids, just like she had remained friends with their parents.

Daphne went back to her flute, listening vaguely to Pansy and Astoria argue about joke kits, and hoping that next year was just as good as this one.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some timeskipping rn. it's gonna be common place so strap your seatbelts in

“Can we go to Portree?”, Lilian asked, one lazy summer afternoon, sprawled on the couch as Daphne did some light reading - there was a newly published article on the effects of the Fidelius Charm when applied to a person, and Daphne had been dying to read it - on the kitchen table, making notes on a parchment. She maybe could convince her boss to test it in the Department, if they found a suitable lab rat. Maybe #62, if he was able to shake off the current issue he had with being spelled on. Some sort of allergic reaction to the past batch of experimentation or something, she was fuzzy on the details.

“Why should we?”, Daphne’s eyes didn’t leave the text, dipping her quill into the ink pot, quietly charming it to highlight instead of underline. There was an interesting fragment on the after-effects on the experiment’s subject psychosis after noticing no one outside would ever be able to see, hear or remember any previous memories of him unless his name was given to them by the secret keeper. “Do we need anything from there?”

“No, it’s just…”, there was a pause, and Daphne rose her head, forgetting the article for the time being. Lilian didn’t seem to notice anything wrong, but Daphne was almost sure she could hear the tiniest wisps of laughter. “I think I remember having ice cream there, and I kind of want it again.”

Daphne froze; she had never given ice cream to Lilian in the Portree market. She knew better than to trust anything that could possibly have a fairy's touch in it.

“Do you?”, Daphne tried to keep it cool, wondering whether or not she could transfigure something into iron and it’d count as iron or as whatever material it had been originally from. 

“Yeah. I _think_ it was pomegranate, which is _weird_ , because I don’t like it. Aunt Astoria was there, too...”, there was another pause, and Daphne wondered if she should, in fact, go to the Portree market, but to sell her hair to the old crone and ask for a blessing. Lilian sighed. “I think I’d like to have more, though.”

“There’s ice cream at home.”, Daphne rose up, going quietly through her cabinets, trying to find the iron necklace she usually kept hidden for occasions her little bout of paranoia got the better of her. Wasn’t it in the pots cupboard?

“I want  _ that  _ one, though,”, Lilian whined, and Daphne wondered what that could mean. What did the faeries want, now? They hadn’t bothered her in so long.

She grabbed the iron necklace - it had been hidden inside an old chipped bowl, for some reason - and went, as casually as possible, to the living room. Lilian was still sprawled, her homework all around her, a blot of ink in her forehead (somehow), looking to the ceiling as if she wanted to remember the exact taste of the ice cream she had never had. Daphne crouched by Lilian’s side, putting the necklace on her daughter, and her green eyed looked at Daphne, confused. Her daughter may not understand what Daphne had been raised with, but it wasn’t going to stop her.

When Lilian’s skin didn’t sizzle and burn, she shrugged. Well, her daughter hadn’t been substituted by a changeling or a _simulacrum_ who had their eyes on her because of the iron box business. That was as good as it came. Perhaps it was just a very realistic dream, and some ice cream did sound like an interesting option.

“Can it be in Fortescue's instead?”, Daphne asked, unclasping the necklace, noticing that there was, in fact, no burn marks in Lilian’s skin. “It’s closer than the shop in Portree, and Apparating is uncomfortable in the summer.”

Lilian sighed, disappointed, but rose up, going to her room. Daphne did the same, but hiding the necklace somewhere else. She tidied up her parchment notes and ink, lazily deciding to go outside in her current clothes - the lightest robe she had, almost a sundress in its thinness - and some simple slippers, her purse being Accio’d to her. Perhaps she could later finish reading, and waited for Lilian to appear, her little girl at least having cleaned the ink spot in her forehead.

“Ready?”, Daphne asked, and Lilian nodded, passing a hand through her hair, as if trying to detangle it. She decided to take the Knight Bus, for a change of pace, and also decided to not tell anything to Lilian until the last minute possible. It’d be fun. The first trip on the Knight Bus always was, at least. 

Daphne had taken her first trip to go from Portree to Diagon Alley, a few hours after she had received her letter, and Daphne was almost sure that had been the only time she had seen her father crack something like a smile. Or not, who knew, at that point - it had been over twenty years.

They went to the front of the apartment building, and Daphne looked both ways before taking her wand out of the robe’s pocket, just enough time so that the bus would appear, quickly putting it back. 

Lilian seemed amazed, not morose anymore in the slightest, and Daphne allowed a wry smile to grace her face, letting Lilian run in front as Daphne paid up for a seat, a few sickles for the two of them, and sat near the window, making sure to silently stick her chair to the floor of the bus, letting Lilian find out for herself the fun surprises of life. It’d be good practice.

“How come we never used this before, mum?”, Lilian asked, when she finished looking around, and Daphne simply smiled as the driver started to drive like a madman. Lilian was thrown to the end of the bus, and Daphne waited until her chair slid back near to stick it to the ground. Lilian seemed a bit green, though. “I think I understand now.”

Daphne laughed a bit, but Lilian huffed. Ah, to be young and trusting wizards with safety. How many had made that same mistake before...

“Don’t worry, it was the same with your aunt Astoria and me. My parents also didn’t tell me about this,”, Daphne tried, putting one hand on Lilian’s shoulder. Lilian looked at her with curiosity shining in her green eyes, and Daphne knew she had spoken too much.

“What happened to them?”, she asked, and Daphne bit her tongue. “You told me they were Death Eaters, but what happened to them?”

She had, in fact, said that, because Lilian hadn’t understood how people hadn’t just fought back when they knew Death Eaters were near by - and to explain that sometimes the people you had to fight against had more power than you had, be it magical or influence or whatever else - wasn’t so simple as she thought it would be.

“They are in Azkaban, and for very good reason.”, Daphne bit her tongue once more when the words came out too coldly, but Lilian nodded, eyes going back to the interior of the bus. She looked around, and nodded to herself when she saw no one was around.“If you allow me a moment of honesty, Lilian, I was glad when they went to Azkaban.”

Lilian’s eyes snapped back to Daphne, interested once more, and she tilted her head.

“Why is that?”, she asked. Daphne hadn’t explained to her daughter what her childhood had been like, cold sprawling halls filled with eyes ready to tell her off for any unpureblood-like comportment - be it running or laughing loudly -, and ready, at any second, to hand her to her parents for punishment.

The fact that her parents had been thinking of selling her and Astoria wasn’t even the cherry on the cake, really.

“I didn’t have a nice, loving family. It was always just me and your aunt Astoria, back home.”, Daphne was mildly uncomfortable, but Lilian’s eyes just stared harder, as if she was keeping a question to herself. “One day, you’ll go to the ancestral Greengrass home, and you’ll understand, sweetheart.”

The bus stopped, and Lilian would have flown out of her seat, if Daphne hadn’t held her.

“Diagon Alley!”, the driver called, and Lilian glared at him as the two of them left the Knight Bus, Daphne watching for a mere second as it went away before turning to the entrance, the bar dingy and barely lit, as usual. 

Daphne went inside, Lilian just in front of her, and waved to the new bartender - a girl she recognized vaguely from Hogwarts; Hannah something? She couldn’t remember, she had never interacted much with the Hufflepuffs, even after the war -, going to the back. It was still as empty as she remembered it being, just the trashcan and the dustbin.

She didn’t bother with thinking too deeply about it, using her wand to tap the bricks in the correct sequence, putting the wand back in its proper place as the hole opened and Lilian went forward, eyes focused on the shops, as if this was the first time she was in Diagon Alley.

Daphne sighed, going after her daughter, passing a hand through her hair.

“Hey, mum,”, Lilian called, as she made a beeline for the Quidditch supply store. Daphne wasn’t sure what else she had been expecting, really, considering whose child she was. Lilian’s eyes were focused on a top of the line broom, and Daphne raised one eyebrow. Oh, wasn't she _really_ her father's daughter? “, can I try for the Quidditch team next year?”

“Sure you can, but I’m assuming this is you, asking for a nice broom?”, Daphne asked, more amused than she had any right to be. Lilian, at least, had the decency to blush. “Well, I don’t see why not try for the team, but I do ask that you research brooms and then give me all details on the one you want. That, however, can be arranged for later, because I want you to think on the subject.”

Lilian smiled, shining as if the sun was under her skin, and made a motion to hug Daphne, before she seemed to remember where she was, blushing slightly. How kids grew up fast and got embarrassed of hugging their parents.

“Now, didn’t you want ice cream?”, Daphne hummed, and her daughter nodded, almost flying to the crowded ice cream shop. Well, it was a summer day, what else was to be expected?

With a sigh, Daphne steeled herself, and went behind Lilian.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the new update schedule, aka tuesdays and fridays! hope y'all enjoy ~

“Hey, mum, can I go with Molly to the Quidditch cup?”, Lilian asked, over breakfast, and Daphne, wondering why she was hosting _ Molly Weasley _ , of all people, in her house, frowned. The girl had appeared for breakfast, and Daphne hadn’t had the heart to kick her out.

“Why is that, sweetheart?”, Daphne asked, lowering her newspaper, and Molly and Lilian changed looks. 

“My mum can’t go, so we have an extra ticket. My dad said I could bring Lily if you gave her permission, mrs. Greengrass.”, Molly blushed slightly, and Daphne had to bite her tongue to not wince at  _ Lily.  _ She should have named her child Arachne, instead of bitterly clinging to what she had discussed with Harry once or twice. 

“Please? Pretty please, mum, can I go to the Quidditch world cup?”, Lilian asked, and Daphne pondered for a second, eyes fixed on the teacup in front of her. In one hand, Lilian would be able to see a professional Quidditch team live - Daphne couldn’t exactly take her daughter to all matches -, and it would be a good bonding experience for her and Molly. 

On the other hand, if Percy Weasley was going, weren’t the rest of the lot? It meant Ginevra Weasley would go - and whenever Ginevra went, Harry followed, if only to keep the “happy family” image. If any journalist noticed, it’d be a field day for them and a splitting headache for Daphne.

But still - looking into Lilian’s pleading eyes, how could she say no? Daphne sighed.

“You can go,”, she started, the two girls started commemorating, like the children they were, before she could even stop talking. “But you’re going to firecall me every day, young lady, and you are to obey whatever mr. Weasley says.”

“That’s it?”, Lilian asked, surprise clear as day in her voice, and Daphne blinked.

“Should I put more conditions, then? Because I can think a few of them,”, Daphne replied, and Lilian protested. 

“Not needed, and thank you  _ so much,  _ mum!”, Lilian chirped, and Daphne was almost sure, had it not been for Molly’s shy presence, Lilian would be jumping over breakfast to hug her. How kids grew up fast these days.

As if she’d ever do that to her parents, though. Daphne jumped over the table to do  _ anything  _ emotional to her parents, and she’d be hit with a curse faster than she could say whatever she had wanted to say. Daphne had been on the line once or twice until she learned, and her sister was much of the same.

“Alright, alright then.”, Daphne laughed, patting her daughter on the back as Molly’s eyes shone behind the thick rim of her glasses. “Should I help you pack, or do you girls want to do it alone? Besides, when is it?”

“Tomorrow!”, Lilian chirped, and it was almost as if she had been violently thrown to the left. Tomorrow? A quick look into the newspaper cover told that yes, Lilian was absolutely right - and to top it off, it was on the Patagonian desert. Where, in Merlin’s blessed name, was that? And to top it off, it was a  _ desert? _

“And you told me this today?”, Daphne said, exasperation finding a way to her tongue. Lilian looked a bit guilty at this, twiddling her thumbs. Molly, whoever, spoke up, pushing her glasses back.

“Sorry, mrs. Greengrass, I only learned of it yesterday, and only told Lily today, before breakfast,”, the girl explained, blushing slightly, and Daphne nodded. Molly seemed a bit anxious about the whole thing, and Lilian’s eyes wouldn’t rise, so she sighed.”

“Very well, then there is nothing I can do, if that’s what happened.”, Daphne rose up from the table, and the two of them visibly relaxed. She stared at them for a long moment, before making a decision. “Can I let you two girls alone for an hour or two, at most, or should I worry?”

“Sure you can!”, Lilian said, bright and cheery once more. “But why?”

“Sweetheart, I know how can a Quidditch Cup can go. I’m going to buy you an emergency portkey,”, Daphne replied, and when Lilian protested, she sighed. “Lilian, I know how bad can a Quidditch cup go. If anything happens, I want you to be able to get home as quickly as possible.”

Daphne hadn’t been able to go the Quidditch cup in her fourth year - not that she had wanted to, anyway, but Astoria had -, but her parents had gone, clad in black and white masks slipping out of their pockets. The following morning, they had a pair of twin satisfied smiles while reading the news, the headline of an attack after the end of the game clear as the picture of the giant skull with a snake coming out of its eye socket. Daphne and Astoria had only exchanged looks and stayed silent.

“There’s not a war going on anymore, mum,”, Lilian whined, and Daphne smiled, trying to contain any bite out of it.

“What’s that, young lady? You want to come home a day earlier? Just in the day of the final match?”, Daphne said, and Lilian protested once more, more of a whine than actual words. She accio’d her purse, and put a bang of hair behind her ear. “Very well, then. I’ll be right back. Put out all fires you start.”

“Ye’s, ma’am,”, both girls said, and Daphne smiled to them before leaving.

However, in her entrance hall, almost hidden in the dark, was Harry, and Daphne bit her tongue to not cuss - and as such, alert Lilian and Molly of something odd going on - as Harry waved a bit, almost shy.

“You,” she hissed, grabbing his wrist.”What are you doing here?”

Harry seemed amused, but Daphne wasn’t, opening the door and bringing him with her outside.

“I thought I’d pick up some coffee, but I heard Molly speaking when I came in, and I didn’t want to explain to Molly why I was on your house so casually,”, Harry said, passing a hand through his dark hair, and Daphne let go of his wrist. “Also, I’ve heard of Lilian and Molly’s plans. I didn’t know that either, I thought Audrey would be going.”

Daphne nodded, and twirled a stray strand of hair, looking away. Harry touched her hair quietly. She sighed, content, for one mere moment, before brushing him away. It’d be hard to explain to the neighbors (even though Daphne was  _ sure  _ they thought she was his mistress. Well, she was.). 

She motioned for him to walk, and Harry obeyed, side by side with her, to the stairs. 

“I’ll keep an eye on her, if that pleases you,”, Harry said, humming quietly, and Daphne considered it for a moment. An eye on Lilian - an eye she trusted, to begin with - was still better than nothing at all. But then, wasn’t Harry pretending to not know her so that no one would ask questions? Wouldn’t it make matters worse than they already were?

“Won’t it trouble you?”, Daphne asked, stopping, and he stared at her with familiar green eyes.

“I wouldn’t offer if it would,” Harry retorted, and Daphne laughed, dryly.

“Says the Gryffindor.”

“Says the Slytherin.”, he kissed her, and Daphne allowed it for a moment, before stepping back, forgetting she was in a staircase for a second as she lost her sense of balance. Harry, luckily for Daphne, catched her. “It’s nothing, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes, letting herself go of his grip.

“Meet you in Diagon Alley, or are you going to work?”, Daphne asked.

“Work, unfortunately. Something or another, but we can meet later, perhaps,”, he offered, instead, and Daphne smirked. “Like, let’s say, on that coffee shop near the Ministry.”

“Sounds good to me.”, Daphne kissed him once more and Appareted away, arriving at the Leaky Cauldron. She took a deep breath and went to her own business. Perhaps a nice bracelet portkey would be inconspicuous enough...


	21. Chapter 21

Lilian came back from the Quidditch Cup decked in Bulgarian regalia, a grin adorning her face, and Daphne - who had managed to make the old radio work just to keep an ear on the news of it - smiled to her daughter. She thanked Percy Weasley for bringing her daughter home, and he simply nodded, curtly and mumbling something about duty before leaving, Molly nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had stayed home? Who knew. Daphne didn’t care enough, really.

“I see your favorite won,”, she stated, and Lilian nodded, still grinning like a madman, her trunk trailing behind her. “How about you put your trunk in your room, and then join me in the kitchen? There’s breakfast.”

“I’ve already eaten at Molly’s house, mum, but if there’s hot chocolate I want it!”, Lilian chirped, passing by with her trunk, and Daphne allowed herself a smile.

“Very well, then. Also, if you want to put other clothes on, do so. The Bulgarian uniform is nice, but perhaps too much in normal, day to day life, sweetheart.”, she suggested, moving towards the kitchen as she spoke. Lilian hummed an agreement, and Daphne, with a heavy sigh, wondered where, in Merlin’s thrice-damned name, she would be able to put the Bulgarian flag Lilian was using as a cape. Had she even slept, between last night’s game and today morning? Good grief. Yes, the game had been exciting - Daphne had listened to it in her old, terrible radio, Ginevra’s voice a background constant while she read over some work reports. Apparently, one of the experiments had grown a new arm, and while they’d have to cut it, it did give another layer to the entire Quidditch World Cup experience. A perhaps bizarre layer, but it had been good fun. 

The fact Daphne still had a few, pleasant memories of Viktor Krum sitting a few seats away from her added to it, definitely. Who didn’t have a crush on him, back in the day, really? She had been a bit jealous of Granger, sure, but it was her who sat almost near him every day. Separated by a wall of other Durmstrang students, but still somewhat near him.

She sighed, wondering if she had marshmallows to put in Lilian’s hot chocolate, and as she opened a cabinet to see if there was still a few laying around, she heard a familiar voice.

“So, how was your time without me?”, Harry asked, and Daphne closed the cabinet door quickly, looking at him with wide gray eyes. He was grinning, way too cheery to be real.

“Absolutely normal. I worked, unlike  _ some _ , who can take long vacations without a care in the world.”, Daphne replied, and Harry laughed as she went back to looking for the marshmallows, he sitting on her counters like a child. 

“Aw, sorry. I thought of you the entire time, though,”, Harry hummed, playing with the lone strands of her hair that weren’t on a sloppy bun. 

“Did you?”, Daphne asked, the tone of surprise in her voice more from actually finding a bag of marshmallows than for Harry’s statement. 

“Oh, yes, the entire time. I also kept an eye out for Lilian, even though it was a bit hard,”, he said, and Daphne, humming to herself, went back to her hot chocolate preparation.

“Why is that?”, Lilian’s voice asked, as if coming back from nowhere, but Daphne, even though she bit her tongue in surprise, knew her daughter had been inside the entire time. She faced her daughter, back to her normal clothes, but still with a Bulgaria wristband, instead of the emergency Portkey Daphne had bought her, the bracelet being put carefully on the table. It was pretty, yes, but now it wasn’t useful anymore.

“Well, Percy kept you and Molly pretty much locked up in the Ministry box, for starters,”, Harry stated, getting off the counter and sitting on the table, Lilian watching him with careful eyes. Had she…? “And I really didn’t want Skeeter to tell the entire world that I was watching the Ministry box instead of the game, so I had to do with glances.”

“Yes, okay, but why?”, Lilian pressed, sitting in front of Harry and staring at him. They looked so much alike, it was a wonder no one else had picked up. Well, no one other than Lilian’s teachers, from what Millicent had said, but mostly no one. “Why do I need a babysitter?”

Daphne gently put the hot chocolate in front of Lilian, and the girl looked from the mug - two marshmallows on top floating gently, melting together - to her mother.

“I asked Harry to keep an eye on you, sweetheart. I was worried, since it was your first big event, and I wasn’t able to go.”, Daphne sat on Harry’s side, and her daughter looked from Daphne to Harry. “And, speaking of which, how it was? I heard on the radio, but I’m sure it was better than what it seemed.”

Lilian seemed to forget whatever feelings she had been having, a smile breaking on her face as she started describing how cool Viktor Krum’s feints were, and Daphne smiled. She had been just like that, once, hadn’t she?

Well, minus being able to see him in action, but alas, no one could have everything.

“If you want, Lilian, I could get you his autograph?”, Harry said, and Lilian stopped speaking for a whole five seconds, but her eyes were shining like emeralds.

“Really? How do you know Viktor Krum, uncle Harry?”, Lilian asked, and Harry smiled, softly, as Lilian sipped her hot chocolate.

“We played together once.”, he replied, and Daphne rolled her eyes. “Well, _technically_.”

“The Triwizard Tournament isn’t a Quidditch match, Harry,”, Daphne offered, falsely helpful, and Harry laughed.

“But we were against each other, so that counts in my books,”, he replied, and Lilian looked from one to another. “I mean, we faced a dragon together.”

“You faced one and he faced another.”, Daphne sighed, and Lilian looked to Harry.

“You faced a dragon?”, her tone didn’t sound too surprised, and Daphne wondered how much of Harry Potter’s history was being taught at Hogwarts. All of it, perhaps? She had no idea. “Can you tell me about it? It must be a cool story!”

Harry grinned, excited about it, and Daphne allowed herself a smile.

“Well, it all started at the Halloween feast…”, Harry started, and Lilian’s grin grew. Merlin, it seemed like it had been such a long time ago, that everyone knew about it, but she gathered this generation didn’t. Not yet, at least.

Shaking her head minimally, Daphne allowed herself to listen to a story she knew already, quietly watching her daughter and her daughter’s father, even though one didn’t know about the other.

Well, at least that  _ was  _ her hope, that Lilian was ignorant of Harry’s presence in her life and what it meant. Of course nothing was so picture perfect.

“You know what, uncle Harry, you’re kind of like a dad to me.”, she said, and Daphne froze, just like Harry. “I mean, you’re always here for me!”

Harry did his best polite smile, and Daphne would have said something, if there wasn’t something suddenly blocking her throat, not allowing her speech.

Did she know? And if so, how? Daphne and Harry had been so discrete. Had Lilian picked up on something?

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”, Daphne managed, somehow not choking in her own spit, and Lilian seemed to glow with childish innocence.

“I don’t have a dad, and so I can’t assume what having one is like, but I think uncle Harry is pretty close.”, Lilian jumped up from her spot on the table, eyes shining with something Daphne couldn’t exactly name. “Wait, hold on, I forgot I brought souvenirs! Let me grab them!”

As soon as Lilian left the kitchen, Daphne hurriedly threw a silencing ward around the room, turning to face Harry with panic written clear as day on her face.

“Do you think Lilian knows?”, she asked, hating how her voice was tinged with fear, and Harry - looking almost paranoically to the door where Lilian had left - shook his head. “Harry…”

“I was the same when I found my godfather, Daphne. I don’t think she found out.”, there was a pause, and he touched Daphne’s face lightly. “Stay calm. Besides, if she finds out, we deal with it. She doesn’t, you tell her whenever you deem appropriate.”

It sounded fair, but Daphne still threw a worried look at the door’s direction, pursing her lips. Lilian was too young to carry that burden. It would be best if she didn’t find it out, not yet.

With a heavy sigh, Daphne let down the ward, Lilian zooming in soon after with a smile on her face and several…

“Are those miniatures dragons?”, Daphne asked, forgetting her fears as several small dragons started flying around, Lilian grinning from ear to ear as Harry started laughing, Salem jumping on the table and trying to pick up at least one. “Lilian Arachne Greengrass, you better find a nice new home for these!”

Lilian didn’t answer, joining in the laughter, and Daphne sighed. Yes, there would be no way a childish girl such as Lilian would be able to know anything about her parentage.


	22. Chapter 22

Daphne knew when the Potter family had entered the station because it was as if the conversation was frozen still, leaving space for whispers instead. She looked at Lilian, who seemed to be more interested in feeding Salem little bits of cat food, and didn’t exactly bother to raise her head.

Daphne, however, couldn’t be so  _ blasé  _ about the subject, and turned her head to see what was going on, looking just in time to see Harry himself pop from the entrance, side by side with Ginevra. She felt a bit jealous, but she had made her decision a long time ago.

Did a small, dark corner of Daphne wish it was her, instead, on Harry’s arm, taking a bunch of children to the station so they could go to Hogwarts? Absolutely, but wasn’t that the wish of literally any other woman roughly her age? She was sure Tracey had nurtured a crush on Harry Potter for two or three years, and had heard the exact same fantasy enough times to make her hate it.

Still, that wasn’t her, but Ginevra, by her side, and her child was only Lilian. Daphne bit back a sigh, but kept watching as Harry seemed to talk with his oldest, while Ginevra wrangled a boy with dark hair and a little redhead girl. That should be Albus Severus and Lily Luna.

Albus was an awful name for a kid, she noted. It was a name filled with both the impression one was already born old and with the weight of the world on their back, but this was Harry Potter’s child - in a way, he was, wasn't he. Poor kid.

“Molly!”, chirped Lilian, breaking Daphne out of her reverie, noticing the Weasley girl approaching quickly, the two girls throwing themselves into a hug. Molly’s father, if his sour face was any indication, wasn’t particularly happy with this development, nearing them with almost carefully measured steps - almost as if he had a measuring tape glued to the side of his shoes. If what she remembered from Harry, Percy was the model example of a boring Ministry worker bee.

This was going to be terrible, Daphne knew.

“Hello, Mrs. Greengrass!”, said Molly, as chipper as one could be, and she nodded to the girl, holding hands with Lilian, the two of them exchanging mischievous smiles. Oh, now that would be interesting. “Me and Lily will be going now, we _really_ want a good cabin. Right?”

“Right!”, Lilian chirped back, and Daphne smiled. Ah, to be young and want to go to school. Hogwarts was a safe haven from her parents to Daphne, but she was sure Lilian found it fun for other reasons. Studying, perhaps. _Something_. She had no idea.

“Have a good year, and Lilian, don’t forget to write,”, Daphne said, the two girls nodding, Molly mentioning she had found some magazine or another as they grabbed their trunks and disappeared inside the train, Salem meowing lazily as the sudden movement bothered his post-feeding nap. 

“Mrs. Greengrass,”, offered Percy Weasley, and Daphne knew she would have to speak with him. Merlin save her soul.

“Mr. Weasley.”, Daphne looked to him, and yes, maybe Skeeter _was_ telling the truth when she had said he hadn’t aged well. How old was he supposed to be, again? Fifty? “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”, his voice was harsh, almost as if he didn’t want to chat. She could work with that, really. 

Daphne looked in the direction she had last seen Harry, and found it was his time to wrangle children as Ginevra spoke, almost softly, to James. She turned her eyes away, looking around, and wondering if maybe she couldn’t step away and go work already, but she knew she couldn’t - what if Lilian tried to find her before the train departed and wasn’t able to? -, and as such, she stayed.

Well, if she did give a discrete step behind so she wasn’t shoulder to shoulder with Percy Weasley, no one could _exactly_ blame her. She still had some principles.

Daphne heard the sound of whispering grow in volume, drowned by the train’s loud whistle and thickening smoke, and looked once more into Harry’s general direction. He was waving at James, a smile playing on his face as he tangled his arm with Ginevra, seemingly in puppy love with her. Merlin, she wished she was wearing Ginevra’s shoes. If only she hadn’t been insecure and panicking, perhaps…

The train left the station, and Daphne left her thoughts behind, watching as it went north, into Hogwarts. As soon as it had left, though, she made almost a run for the entrance, trying to get out of station 9 ¾ before everyone else had the same idea and created a bottleneck.  Her plan was frustrated halfway through, however, when she felt a hand on her upper arm. Daphne looked back, finding Harry holding her lightly, and bit back a smile, aware that, if she reacted and _anyone_ noticed, there’d be gossip abound. Daphne didn't need any more gossip, thank you very much.

“Is there something wrong?”, she asked, doing her very best to seem as if she didn’t care, pulling him to a corner where there wasn’t too much movement, on the sidelines. Other parents seemed to not care about them as long as they weren’t blocking traffic, so that was good for them.

“No, not really.”, Harry stopped, passing a hand through his hair. “Just felt bad I couldn’t see Lilian off, it’s all.”

“You’re not her father, must I remind you of that?”, she hissed, eyes darting to the crowd. They seemed as if they hadn’t heard it, but who knew. Daphne sighed, looking at him. “Not officially, at least... She does consider you a father, but...”

Merlin, why was her life so complicated? What had Daphne done to deserve this?

“I know, I know, but still. I was going to, but Percy was there, and I wasn’t feeling like explaining myself _or_ listening to regulations,”, Harry chuckled to himself, and Daphne could perfectly imagine Percy Weasley boring her to death. She had been  right to believe he was a boring Ministry worker, then. He looked in her eyes, and Daphne stared back, grey against green. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me, and go back to your wife. She must be worried her husband is missing,”, Daphne said, letting go of his touch. Harry grimaced a bit, but nodded - and Daphne didn’t wait for him to speak before almost throwing herself in the crowd, doing her very best to not look back to Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter on we're going WILD with timeskips lads


	23. Chapter 23

Another year, another Christmas party at Malfoy’s house. Daphne sighed into her flute, feeling the oddest sensation of deja vu as she stared at the group of children huddled around something. This time, however, things were different, because Lilian hadn’t come home.

She had sent a letter, last week, asking if she could please stay at Hogwarts this year because Molly’s father, mother and sister would be traveling to do some sort of Ministry business during that time, and as such, Molly would stay at Hogwarts. Daphne did not ask _why_ Molly wasn’t willing to travel, and let her daughter stay at the castle. She wouldn’t question it, because it was none of her business whatever was happening with a subset of the Weasleys.

“So, Daphne,”, started Pansy, and Daphne's attention popped back to the conversation, sipping her champagne. “Where is your kid?”

“Hogwarts. Apparently, Molly dear is staying because Weasley is traveling or something.”, there was a pause, Pansy and Theo looking at each other, and Daphne didn’t miss it. Her eyes became slits, analyzing her friends and whatever secret conversation they could be having. “What?”

“Daphne, I don’t know how to tell you this, but…”, Theodore started, slowly, and Daphne could feel a ball of anxiety start to form in her stomach. “But Percy Weasley is _not_ traveling. I saw him yesterday, on the Station, with his wife, waiting for Molly. And the day before that, on the Ministry, too.”

“What?”, she asked, mind trying to run on  _why_ Lilian would have lied to her, rising up to her feet before she thought about it. Could it be...? No, no. Lilian would have said something if she...

The kids hissed loudly, at the same time, in their little corner, and eyes turned to face them. Daphne frowned, feeling something under her sensible heels, eyes turned down as she stepped backward, revealing something a bit similar to an ear, connected to a thin piece of string. She vaguely recognized it, but from where...?

“Is that…”, Blaise started, looking down to what she did, and Astoria, by her side, gasped.

“It’s an Extendable Ear, yes,”, her sister continued, eyes going to the kid group, who seemed now to be whispering conspiratorially. Draco rose an eyebrow at them, but they didn’t seem to notice. “Scorpius, dear. Come here for a moment.”

Scorpius - little Scorpius, nine years old, two years from going to Hogwarts himself - looked at his friends (who, now that Daphne thought about it, were at Hogwarts as well. Were they keeping Lilian’s secret from Daphne herself? If so, that was a good display of loyalty, but Daphne wasn’t happy  _ at all  _ about that.) for one brief moment, then stared back at Astoria.

“Come here, Scorpius, your mother just wants a few answers,”, Draco smiled, terrifying for no reason at all. It reminded her a bit of her father, but that was probably a coincidence. “Unless, _of course_ , your friends wish to say what exactly an Extendable Ear was doing underneath our table.”

The kids looked at each other, a silent conversation happening with only looks for a mere moment before Nerine stepped forward, leading the group near the adults. Daphne sat back, staring at the Nott twins, trying to understand what could have gone wrong.

“Sorry, Mr. Malfoy. Nicky and I got the joke kit last year, and we decided to test it in your table,”, Nerine started, blushing slightly, twirling a strand of dark curly hair in one finger. Pansy stared at her carefully, and Daphne could understand _why_ she had been put in Hufflepuff. The girl gave in too easily when under pressure. “Lilian got all spooked when we heard you guys talking about her father, and then this year she and Molly just kept going to the library all the time… Me and Nicky once followed her, thinking she had found a way to get in the Forbidden Section, but…”

“But all Lilian and Molly did was read old newspapers,”, Nicholas replied, rolling his eyes, apparently uninterested in the entire affair. Daphne could hear Pansy muttering something about children and forbidden entries in forbidden places, but her head was busy, trying to think a way of escaping this situation she had, fully aware that she'd have to tell Lilian but never expecting her daughter to find out on her own, put herself on. “It was a _v_ _ery_ dull affair. We did ask her what she was doing, but she refused to say, so me and Ninny took off.”

Mattie seemed to ponder something as Theo muttered “so _that’s_ how they knew about the party…” under his breath, making Daphne wonder if Theo or Pansy hadn’t checked the joke kit at all. However, Daphne was more worried about herself, currently - last year, they had spoken at length about Lilian’s father, and now Lilian was checking old newspapers? Perhaps…

“What was she checking?”, Daphne blurted, and Nerine looked at Nicholas. Daphne wished that twin communication stopped, trying to think what, exactly, Lilian could be looking in old newspapers, besides information on Harry. 

“She was checking social columns,”, Mattie replied, not looking into Daphne’s eyes, and Daphne's blood ran cold. “Namely about you, mrs. Greengrass, and Harry Potter. She told me that in letters. Said she didn’t want to bother the rest of us with it.”

Or, _alternatively_ , Lilian didn’t want the younger ones spilling to their parents - even if they were barely a year younger. Daphne had no idea why  _ Mattie  _ had been chosen as secret keeper, but she had a few good ideas on the why. Namely, the distance - Mattie spent most of the year in Durmstrang, most of summer in Bulgaria, training for the Quidditch junior team the kid had been scouted for. There was no way for Mattie to spill whatever secrets Lilian had to Tracey because Mattie was almost never in England.

“Did she tell you if she had found anything, Mattie?”, Astoria asked, and Mattie paused, thinking. Daphne was glad she had sat down, because she couldn’t feel the floor under her feet. She had been a fool.

“She told me she had found something, but Lilian needed to do more research… She didn’t say what she needed to research, though. Sorry, mrs. Greengrass,”, Mattie replied, looking away, as if there were more secrets to say, but had decided not to say anything more. Daphne had no idea how much truth Mattie could have spoken, but Daphne smiled nonetheless, rising up.

“It’s alright. I’ll be leaving, however. It seems I forgot I had work to do, so I’ll be excusing myself.”, the smile she offered was a tense one, Daphne was sure, but she couldn’t care enough about pretense at that moment.

She was midway to the entrance, coat grabbed in a hurry from some elf’s arms, when Astoria’s voice stopped her.

“Daphne.”, Astoria called, and she turned, facing her sister - who did not seem out of breath, as if she had Apparated there, twirling a strand of her hair. “What is done is done. Don’t try anything you wouldn’t usually.”

Daphne looked at Astoria with half-lidded eyes, wondering if she could get away with throwing anything made of iron at her.

“It’s my kid, Astoria. Wouldn’t  _ you  _ do the same?”, Daphne asked, and Astoria smiled. “And besides, what I’m supposed to do? Barge into Hogwarts and Obliviate her memories of an entire term? I’m not stupid.”

Astoria’s smile wasn’t human; no, it reminded her too much of that old crone in Portree. She stared at her sister, Astoria's smile too many teeth and bite and none of the usual sweetness.

“No, no. Just saying you shouldn’t do deals, is all.”, Astoria said, and blinked quickly, shoulders relaxing. Her smile now was softer, none of the edge found before. “Stay safe, Daphne.”

“You too,”, Daphne answered, turning back and walking inside the room that allowed Apparition to the outside before the urge to throw an iron chain at her sister grew anymore.

Daphne’s head still spun, thoughts a mess in her head, but at least now she had time to plan what to say to Lilian.


	24. Chapter 24

Daphne did _not_ confront Lilian when her daughter pretended to not know a truth Daphne had refused to reveal for years - and it was thanks to Mattie and friends, that somehow (parental intervention, from what Daphne could politely guess. She was thankful for it, in fact.) hadn’t told Lilian Daphne knew what she was really doing. Daphne never thought she’d be betrayed by the few, sparse social columns that had been written on her relationship with Harry, but what else did she expect? That no one had kept the newspapers from that time? Of course the library would have kept it. Daphne was stupid to think otherwise. 

It hurt, however, to know Lilian was keeping secrets from her - but again, _who_ was Daphne to even _speak_ about secret keeping? She had one for the past thirteen years, kept hidden as if it was some sort of secret shame. Daphne felt guilty for it, but she did out of love, out of _necessity_ \- after all, during six years, Daphne was sure Harry and Ginevra were happy; who was she to intrude between them? And after that, there were too many tangles to solve easily -, but, more importantly, she had planned to tell Lilian who her father was at some point. At seventeen, perhaps, but it was better late than never.

But, instead, Daphne had been careless, and Lilian had become curious enough about the subject to _actually_ research it on her own, keeping it a charade from her own mother, _lying_ to get more time into the library. Daphne was… Sort of marveled at how long it took for Lilian to find out, and even then, hadn’t it been by Lilian’s childhood friends, Daphne probably would have only found out about Lilian’s research when her daughter confronted her. How had she been put in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin was a mystery Daphne was curious to solve, but again, perhaps it was some sort of bravery she could not understand.

Lilian did not come during the Easter break, mentioning wanting to get some extra tutoring for the exams, and Daphne pretended it was fine, telling her to have fun. She asked Harry, later, if Teddy had come home for the break; he looked confused at Daphne for one mere moment, before she nodded to herself, confirming her theory that once more Lilian was lying. Daphne told him what had happened during the Christmas party at Astoria and Draco’s house, and he laughed softly.

“That’s no laughing matter, Harry,”, Daphne said, lightly slapping his arm.

“No, sorry, it’s just…”, Harry stopped, a smile still decorating his lips. He looked irresistible, hair a mess and green eyes shining. “I did something like that, once.”

“Of course that had to come from you.”, Daphne rolled her eyes, but Harry hugged her, instead. “Who _else_ would do that?”

“Lilian,”, Harry murmured, kissing her softly. Daphne rolled her eyes once more, and let herself get lost into Harry.

Lilian came home for the summer - which, hadn’t she done that, would have been what would have set Daphne on the warpath -, and she knew there was something wrong from the moment her daughter stepped foot on the station, hair short, almost boyishly so, Molly by her side looking worried behind her glasses.

“Lilian, sweetheart.”, Daphne said, memory flashing back to the little of Harry she could remember having seen in her first years at Hogwarts. They looked more than alike - Lilian seemed almost as if she was Harry in his second year, severely time displaced, and with a clear anger in his emerald eyes.

But this was not a past Harry, come back from twenty-three years ago - it was her daughter, in the present. She blinked, clearing the image away, and looking at Lilian for who she was. Namely, her daughter.

“Mother.”, Lilian murmured, facing Molly. Daphne was a bit hurt - Lilian had never called her _mother,_ so formal, so cold. It was almost like she was staring at a stranger. “I’ll write you, okay?”

Molly looked from Lilian to Daphne, and nodded.

“My house is open, if you need”, Molly’s words were knives, but Daphne bore a smile and kept quiet as the Weasley girl went to where her father was. Percy Weasley, at least, seemed unaffected, not even noticing Daphne’s existence.

She could presume, then, that Percy _wasn’t_ aware of Lilian’s father's identity, or else he wouldn’t be near Harry, who was chatting with Teddy. Molly, however, was, if the quiet, threatening look she sent was any indication. Daphne simply smiled at the girl. She wasn’t going to pick a fight with a twelve-year-old, especially when said twelve year old had a year-long grudge she had been bearing.

“Shall we go, then?”, Daphne asked, and Lilian, looking at her with half-lidded eyes, clearly analyzed her.

“Will _father_ be there?”, was Lilian’s turn to ask, and Daphne did not look in Harry’s direction, but Lilian did, pointedly so.

One of her friends had told, then. Daphne carefully eyed Nerine and Nicholas, who were walking away with Pansy and Theo. Perhaps they had been the moles, Nerine more than Nicholas. She was soft and pliable, after all, a Hufflepuff through and through.

“Tomorrow, perhaps.”, it was like a cryptic riddle that Daphne would have overheard in the Portree market, unable to answer and dying to do so, but it was needed, at the moment. “Let’s go, Lilian.”

Lilian hesitated for a moment, Salem popping out for a moment from his cage to meow irritably, but went, following her mother barely a step behind.

When they arrived at home, Lilian quietly set Salem free, put new food and water to him, and locked herself in her room, offering, as Daphne watched, one quiet look filled with anger. Daphne partially wanted to scream in frustration - if she wanted answers, _Daphne_  herself could give them! There was no need to wait until Harry was here, after all -, but she could understand. She had lied for twelve years about her father, and for six about the real identity of “uncle Harry”; how easy would it be for her to lie about anything else? Besides, Lilian was a teenager; some rebellion was to be expected.

Daphne took a deep, _deep_ breath, and steeled herself for what was to come.

By the following morning, though, Lilian came out of her room with heavy bags under her eyes, a notepad in her hands as she sat down in front of Daphne. Harry, who was preparing his (as always, burnt) coffee, whistled low, and Daphne had to do her best to not glare at him.

“Can I start?”, she asked, the notepad in the table between them. Where did Lilian take the flair for the dramatic from? Harry wasn’t like that. Daphne wasn’t like that. She decided to blame Blaise, even if he had nothing to do with it. Blaise was the only possible answer that could have given Lilian such a flair for the dramatic.

“Sure, sweetheart,”, Daphne replied, and Harry sat by her side, nursing his coffee cup (by the smell, only slightly burnt) for a second, before setting in on the table. Lilian stared at him and looked at her notepad, eyes half-lidded as if she couldn’t understand what was happening or why.

Lilian took a deep breath, nodded to herself, and stared at both of them.

“Why? Why lie?”, she asked, and Daphne played with the handle of Harry’s mug. Why, in fact. A good question to start things with.

“Let me ask you a question first, Lilian.”, Lilian huffed, but Daphne chose to ignore it. “How did you find out?”

Lilian stared at her - fire and anger burning inside emerald eyes, and Daphne once more chose to ignore it.

“The newspapers. There was a bunch of old ones, so I just read them and connected the dots.”, she replied, after a long moment of silence, crossing her arms.

“Then, I presume you also read the older ones? The ones during the war?”, Daphne asked, and Lilian nodded quietly.

“Yes, 1995 through summer of 1997. Molly and I agreed that after that, it was mostly Voldemort propaganda.”, Lilian spoke the Dark Lord’s name so carelessly it made Daphne barely suppress a flinch, remembering, one second too late, that he was long dead. Still, what a wonder - barely twenty years, and the man’s name was already spoken freely. How much the world had changed.

Harry, as usual, seemed pleased with this. Of course he would - he was the only one who spoke the Dark Lord’s name freely. Daphne could still barely handle it, after all those years he had been dead.

“You’re correct. Now, please, do tell me what was most common, at the beginning. When he came back, preferably.”, the mug handle was the most interesting thing in the world, if how much Daphne fidgeted with it was any measure, and Lilian, once more, huffed; this time, however, there was a slight tinge to her cheeks.

“Harry Potter’s name was dragged through the mud because he said Voldemort came back and the Ministry stuck its collective head in the sand.”, Harry chuckled, and Daphne glared at him. “What does _that_ have to do with my question? I just asked why you lied to me.”

“We’re getting there, don’t worry.”, Harry replied, carefully picking the mug from Daphne’s hand and sipping at it. Lilian glared at him, and he chuckled once more. Daphne sighed, deciding to tie in into what Harry was trying to say.

“The point I’m trying to make is, Lilian, that I didn’t want you to go through what Harry did. He was too young to be treated by media like that, and I didn’t want you to go through it.”, Daphne said, and Lilian looked at her once more, dumbfounded.

“Couldn’t you just put a gag order on media? Wouldn’t that be easier than this entire charade?”, Lilian asked, tired, and Daphne had to count to ten. What were kids those days reading? _Law_ _books_? And since _when_ private gag orders worked on Rita Skeeter? Even when the _government_ told her to keep quiet, she did, but barely so. Daphne still had no idea what kind of dirt Harry had on her to keep Lilian a secret so many years ago, but whatever it was, it worked.

Harry looked at Lilian, more amused than anyone else, and Lilian looked at him carefully, analyzing his every move as Harry sipped his coffee once more.

“And you, _father.”,_ there was a dangerous iciness in Lilian’s tone, and even Harry stopped his coffee drinking, setting his mug on the table, assuming the posture he had practiced with Daphne during Auror training - the one of an interrogator. “How long have _you_ known?”

“I've known for six years. I learned of you that day you walked into us dancing,”, he replied, very carefully, studying Lilian as she studied him. Daphne could rise and cut the tension between their eyes with a piece of paper, if she so wished.

Lilian blinked, surprised, and Daphne could almost see her going through her memories, trying to find that moment. She knew when Lilian had, though, because the girl looked to Daphne, and then to Harry.

“Six years. Since then? And you didn’t want to tell me?”, she hissed, and Harry put his hands in the air for a moment.

“I didn’t even know you existed, and after that, I wanted to respect your mother’s wishes. The fact I was involved in your life at all was already good to me.”, Harry pointed out, and Lilian’s shoulders relaxed. “I mean, as far as things could be, this could be our first meeting. The fact your mother allowed me to get to know you was pretty generous.”

Lilian grumbled something that sounded, vaguely, like “ _alright_ ”, passing a hand through her now short hair, and Daphne allowed herself a quiet smile. 

“James is my half-brother, right?”, she asked, straight away, and Harry nodded. “And I have other half-siblings, too? Albus and... Lily.”

“Albus and Lily.”, Harry confirmed. Lilian seemed a bit put off when he said _Lily,_ and Daphne agreed wholeheartedly. Lily Luna, whoever she was, wasn’t a name that sat right with Daphne. “Albus is going to Hogwarts soon, too.”

Lilian looked at him through half-lidded eyes once more, analyzing Harry, before lowering her head for a second, scrutinizing her notepad.

“So… Why you two broke up? I read the newspapers, and the math is more or less before I was born, so I’m assuming that’s why. But why? Why couldn’t you two stay together?”, Lilian asked, only the barest twinge of tears in her green eyes. “What was so wrong about staying together, you two couldn’t do it?”

Daphne felt ridiculously guilty, and she rose up, reaching through the table to hug her daughter.

She had broken up with Harry out of fear for herself, out of fear for him; she had never stopped, for one moment, to consider her child’s feelings about the matter.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. When me and Harry broke up...", she started, but had no idea what to say. Granger and Weasley didn't like her; Harry was miserable because of that, and when she had found out she had been pregnant - effectively making Harry stick to her until the child was grown and raised, and that was one miserable way to live. How could that be explained to a child, who had no idea what they had gone through? The newspapers didn't cover the whole story.

"My friends didn't like your mother. Daphne broke up with me because she didn't want to see me sad. That's all,", Harry said, succinct, sipping from his coffee mug, and Lilian looked at him. "After that, I was heartbroken, met Ginny, and I'm sure you've read the rest into the newspapers."

"Yeah, I did.", Lilian replied, and Daphne let go of her, looking into her daughter's green eyes. "I'm... Not sorry for what I did, but I'm sorry I lied about Christmas and Easter. I could've come home, but I didn't know how to face you, mom. And father, too, I guess."

Harry choked on his coffee, and Daphne bit back a laugh, sitting back down. _Father_ , huh.

"Oh, don't worry. Your friends told me what you were doing,", Daphne hummed, and Lilian paled, for one moment, before offering a tense smile.

"Did they, now? Was it Nicky or Ninny?", she replied, and Daphne picked up Harry's mug, sipping from it. It was burnt and lukewarm, and Daphne glared at him.

"Mattie.", Daphne replied, and Lilian huffed, mumbling something Daphne decided not to catch on. "However, I'll admit it was smart. There was no way I could've known Molly had gone home during Christmas, after all. I'm surprised you weren't a Slytherin."

"The Hat tried to put me there, but...", Lilian bit her lower lip, and she looked at Harry, carefully. "After Mr. Ollivander made a commentary about my eyes, I thought maybe the Gryffindor Tower could help me with some answers. The Hat seemed a bit amused at that, though..."

"Let me guess, you said ' _not Slytherin'_?", Harry laughed, a bit dryly, and choked once more when Lilian nodded. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, and then it laughed a bit and said something about greatness and my family and put me in Gryffindor. I didn't understand it.", Lilian shrugged, and Harry's smile was shining brightly as the sun itself. "Can I call you father? Or... Something else? I mean, I probably _can't_ call you father in public, because it's going to be a scandal, and if mum doesn't want me on the news it's probably for a good reason, but..."

Harry blinked, confused for a moment, before his smile grew relaxed.

"Sure.", Lilian smiled, shyly almost, and nodded to herself.

"Thanks... Father.", Daphne had never thought she'd see that moment so soon, but there it was - Lilian and Harry, side by side, officially aware of their relationship. It was so precious.

"And, by the way, young lady, what has happened to your hair?", Daphne asked, rising up and deciding to make breakfast for once, instead of only having Harry's burnt coffee to go by. "I don't recall it being so short."

"Oh, that?", she asked, pointing to her boyish short hair. "I got in a Potions accident my first year and it hasn't grown since then. Me and professor Bulstrode are almost getting a cure ready, but according to her, it's going to take until next year to finish brewing. I just didn't put the extensions again because I was mad at you."

Professor Bulstrode what, now? Daphne turned slowly to look at Lilian, ignoring Harry having to bite back a laugh, and wondered if she could send a strong-worded letter to Millicent.

_"Extensions?",_ Daphne asked, the smile on her face too cold, and Lilian, as if it were nothing, shrugged. "And how come I wasn't told about this, young lady?"

"Well, I wasn't hurt, and only noticed my hair stopped growing two weeks after, so I didn't think it'd be an issue, that's all. Besides, Jade from the fourth year let me have her extensions until the hair grew back or professor Bulstrode worked a cure, so you wouldn't have to worry."

"I really should ask Neville to check if the Hat is still working like it should...", Harry muttered, and Daphne, glaring at him, wondering if it had really been a good idea to let them know each other like father and daughter.

In any case, Daphne made a mental note to send a letter to Millicent, and turned back to her breakfast preparation. She probably had pancake mix somewhere…

"Next time something like that happens, young lady,", Daphne started, as Harry, taking notice of what she was doing, rose up. ", you are to tell me, being hurt or not. And I'll be sending a letter to your professor."

"Please don't be mean to her, she's really cool and taught me a bunch of stuff!", Lilian whined, but Daphne only smiled tersely. "She taught me how to make a Polyjuice Potion, and said that if I could brew it correctly three times she would teach me Felix Felicis!"

A strong-worded letter was necessary, and soon. _Polyjuice? Felix Felicis?_ What was next, the Draught of the Living Dead? Twelve-year-olds should be learning Sleeping Draughts, not Merlin-damned coma potions!

"We'll see.", Daphne said, and Harry turned the radio up, a slow, soft song coming out of it quietly.

"Well, my mom was good with potions too. At least we know where that comes from,", he hummed, kissing her for a moment, and Daphne giggled.

"I won't even comment on that!", Lilian huffed, and Daphne wondered what Lilian's opinion of this whole ordeal with Ginevra was, but couldn’t muster enough will to care. All was well, for now, and Daphne couldn't muster the will to break it once more.


	25. Chapter 25

"Molly invited me to go to Romania with her,", started Lilian, and Daphne can smell more troubles than just Harry's absurdly burnt coffee. She shoots one look at Lilian.

"And I'm being asked permission, or am I being asked for clearance to go, since you two already made plans without my knowledge again?", Daphne asked, and Lilian shrugged, blushing slightly. Good.

"Well, Molly's dad said that you could come too, mum, but it's apparently a Weasley thing? In a dragon resort?", Lilian shrugged once more, and Harry choked on his coffee. "Wait, you're going, father?"

"Percy did invite me, yes, but I thought about skipping. There's a rather interesting case in the office...", he trailed off, and Daphne wondered if she could fake being _just_ the ex in front of Harry's entire family. Besides, dragons - the dangerous, fire-breathing creatures? _Really?_ That was the sort of fun, family vacation the Weasleys took?

"Is it because of the dragons during the Tournament?", Lilian asked, a smile playing on her face, and Daphne chortled. Of course Lilian would have gone as far as the Triwizard Tournament. Perhaps her daughter should have been a Ravenclaw, instead of being a Slytherin/Gryffindor Hatstall of sorts. "How was fighting against a Hungarian Horntail? The photos didn't do it justice. Did you _really_ have a race against it?"

Daphne wondered how her daughter could say that with a straight face, smiling, almost as if she was going to take a notepad and a quill from thin air and starting writing them down, almost like a baby journalist. She repressed a chill.

"Very dangerous, wouldn't advise that you did the same, no matter how good in a broom you might be,", Harry hummed, and Lilian huffed. "Being a Seeker in the reserve team is no grounds for that. At your age, I was the youngest Seeker in the century, but I'm sure you already know that."

Lilian seemed surprised, eyes going from Daphne to Harry and to Daphne again. Daphne shrugged, washing her hands from the blame.

"It wasn't me who told it, it was your brother, James. Apparently, he thought that _your_ play in the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game was better than your actual Seeker was,", Daphne answered the silent question Lilian asked, and shrugged. "According to Harry, however, there were several, ah, more _colorful_ words to describe the current Seeker, some boy named... Oliver?"

"Yeah, Oliver Wood,", Lilian spat, and Harry _choked_. Was that name of any importance? She couldn't remember. Was even there an Oliver Wood during her school years? Was he a friend of Harry, to have him choking on his bitter coffee? And why the hell was he drinking burnt coffee, anyway? The fact Lilian didn't notice all this was funnier, though, as she kept ranting, and Harry kept choking in his coffee. He seemed to be turning blue, Daphne thought. "He thinks he's _good_ because his dad is Puddlemere's Keeper, but he's not! He'd be a better Beater! I _tried_ telling Isadore that, but it’s like talking to the f - "

“Language,”, Daphne interrupted, at the same time Harry raised his hand.

"Hold up one moment, Lilian,", Harry called, voice choked, forcing Lilian to stop talking for one moment. "Oliver _Wood_?"

"Yeah, that's his name. And his dad's name, too, apparently. Who knows.", Lilian shrugged, and Harry's smile seemed impossible to take off his face. "What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. His dad used to be my team captain, when I played for Gryffindor.", Oh, now _that_ made sense. That was why Harry was choking on his own spit. The son of his old captain was a lousy Quidditch player. Yeah, Daphne could see the fun on it.

Still, that wasn’t the subject at hand, at the moment. Daphne shook her head and took a deep breath.

“Tell your friend Molly I’ll have to decline. There have been some things in the office…”, that was as far as the Unspeakable spell allowed her to go; they were referred with that title for a good reason, after all. Truth was, the most recent batch of a theoretical potion had had _interesting,_ to say the least, effects on their living subject tests, such as extra limb growth and clearness of the bone matter. All very curious stuff. Lilian deflated visibly, and she rose an eyebrow.

Perhaps her daughter had been looking forward to that? Or, perhaps, like any child, she had been looking forward to the small possibility of having both her mother and father with her?

Merlin, that’d need a bit of work. Daphne raked through her brain for an excuse to have at least a weekend out, and the idea that came out was so good it made her laugh.

Lilian perked up at that, and while Daphne wondered how, exactly, the Hat hadn’t put her in Slytherin. She picked up cues so easily.

“Any funny ideas, Daphne?”, Harry asked, a smile playing on his lips.

“Well, even though we can’t go see dragons, we could go spend a day out in the old family manor…”, Daphne started, and Lilian perked up even more, like a small puppy being shown the outside world. “It’s not well kept, really, but there should be something interesting there.”

“I thought you had sold all of the Greengrass properties?”, Harry asked, and if Lilian had a tail, it would be wagging. It was sort of cute to watch.

“Oh, I did. I sold the vacation manors, but I kept the old family house. Astoria might have wanted to go back, but I mean, what love did we have for the manor in Greece? The American one? Or the one in Siberia?”, she shrugged, and Harry nodded. “It’s not like me and Astoria were ever allowed to leave Portree, anyway, so why keep it?”

“Why did we have so many houses?”, Lilian asked, and she and Harry exchanged looks.

Lilian _did_ know she was a pureblood - there was more pure blood than Muggle in Lilian, and thusly, pureblood -, but Daphne had never really explained that it meant with having some riches. What use did they have for her, anyway? Daphne was financially stable enough, and it wasn’t three additional houses that said that.

“Purebloods have a habit of showing off.”, Harry started, slowly, and Daphne snorted, that was a gentle way to put it. “Your uncle Draco used to have albino peacocks, for example. Three houses that were only used once in a while is a way to show that, I suppose.”

Daphne did remember the bloody creatures - they seemed to hate Daphne, especially so after that one Christmass party. She had no idea why, and had been very, _very_ happy when Astoria had told her Draco had decided to not replace them, after some weird winter cold that killed them.

Lilian nodded, quietly, and looked to her mother.

“When are we going?”, she asked, a bright smile on her face, and Daphne sighed. “And can I still go on Molly’s vacation?”

“Well, as long as you don’t mind wearing an emergency portkey and firecall me every day…”, Daphne let the words hang in the air, and Lilian gave a happy little yell. She smiled, and Daphne held Harry’s hand under the table.

“I’m packing two bags!”, Lilian jumped from her place at the table, running to her room, and Daphne laughed, look into Harry’s green eyes. She was going to say something when Lilian’s voice floated down. “And don’t be gross, I’m just a room away!”

Daphne was almost sure she shouldn’t let Lilian go on Molly’s vacation after that little commentary, but decided to let it slide for now.

“So, your family house, hm?”, Harry wondered, kissing her and rising up, mug in hands. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard about that.”

“Perhaps because I never spoke about it.”, Daphne suggested, shrugging, drinking the last, lukewarm dregs of her tea. “The family house was always cold.”

“Then why you’re going back?”, Harry asked, burning the coffee. Daphne didn’t even raise her eyes, hexing him away from the machine and having it clean itself.

“The elves asked.”, Daphne didn’t _want_ to keep the elves, but she figured it’d be a good idea to have something watching over the old mansion, other than the old family portraits. Daphne plain _refused_ to have a portrait of any of her ancestors on her own house - she _wasn’t_ going to subject Lilian to them, like she and Astoria had -, and as such, the house elves had been the only option she had. Well, better two pairs of living eyes in her old house than none.

Daphne had a few theories on why the elves had called her, but she wasn’t planning on sharing them with Harry anytime soon.

One: her father had died, and now they needed Daphne to hire them for the family again. It seemed plausible - how much longer could they last in Azkaban, anyway? There were happiness-sucking creatures there, for Merlin's sake.

Two, the family portraits had _finally_ worn them down enough to ask for Daphne to come and threaten them with a good old dose of fiendfyre. That _usually_ shut them up for a few years - the last time Daphne had to do that was when she had assumed the control of the family’s assets, and old great-great-great-uncle Elias had been mad she would be selling the Siberia house. They had had a screaming match, and when Daphne threatened to burn him off the family registry and the painting, he and the other portraits had politely agreed with her. After that, they hadn’t bothered her anymore with anything. Well, not until _now_ , at least.

“There should be something interesting there, though. Maybe some old family albums. That’d be interesting to show Lilian.”, Daphne looked up, and set the machine to make coffee. Harry had the kindness to put some water to boil, at least. “The family library, too. We have a few originals from Greece…”

“Originals?”, Harry asked, at the same time Lilian popped up in the door.

“We’re from _Greece_?”, she asked, short hair messed up, and Daphne smiled.

“Some original writing from Greece, not used anymore, and yes, we’re greek. Were. It doesn’t matter anymore. We moved here maybe in the 1700s, 1800s, perhaps.”, she waved the words away, as if they didn’t matter - because they didn’t. Her family had a British surname now, anyway. “If you can read greek, feel free to read them, Lilian.”

“I have three days to learn greek, then?”, Lilian said, and Daphne wondered how, _exactly_ , her daughter had gotten that impression.

“Please don’t,”, Daphne managed to say, feeling exhausted. It was barely eight in the morning, and she was already regretting ever telling Lilian that she would visit the old family house.

In the end, Lilian did not learn any sufficient greek by saturday morning, sleepily yawning as Daphne buttoned up her own traveling robes.

“I told you to not try and learn greek in three days,”, Daphne said, while Lilian yawned. “Do you want to go later? It can wait for you to take a nap, sweetheart.”

“No, I’m fine,”, Lilian muttered, stifling a yawn, and Harry, by her side, messed up her short hair. “We can totally go now.”

Daphne sighed, and picked up the portkey - a little bracelet, iron-wrought and simple -, putting it in her hand. Harry and Lilian moved for it at the same time, and when Daphne was sure they were touching it, she activated the portkey, quickly feeling as if she was being put through a straw.

When the portkey spat them out, she was in the familiar entrance to the market, the stalls already bustling with life, even if it was so early. Still, the market wasn’t her focus, today. She turned to the road she knew would take her to her would family home, and wondered if maybe she should rent a horse for the time being. Or, perhaps, since she was in town, she could call the elf to bring her - but she’d need to put Harry in the guest book. Lilian could enter the wards based solely on her blood, but Harry wasn’t a Greengrass neither by blood or marriage.

Yes, perhaps the elf would be a good idea. They were _supposed_ to obey her, now that she was the current lady Greengrass, but the real question was - would they? Her parents were still alive, after all.

“Kiki.”, she called, not really expecting the elf to appear. Alas, the elf appeared, still looking like she remembered it - bug-eyed, waifish and thin, and wearing the rags one of Astoria’s childhood dresses had become after one of the Malfoy’s Christmas parties had gone wrong. If Daphne wasn’t too mistaken, it had been the one between Mrs. Zabini’s third and fourth husband… Probably. She had no idea.

“Yes, miss Greengrass?”, the elf asked, its voice already getting on Daphne’s nerves. It was grating.

“Could you take the three of us to the manor?”, she asked, and the elf looked from Daphne to Harry. “To the entrance, so I can put him in the guestbook.”

The elf snapped its spindly fingers, and Daphne landed in the grounds in front of the mansion. It still looked like the Georgian architecture nightmare from her childhood, white stone yellowed with time, several windows in a grid, and a magnificent Versailles-style garden to greet visitors. It looked _great_ from a distance. The elf snapped its fingers once more, and the iron gates (good for keeping the fae out) opened with a hefty groan. Kiki then disappeared inside, going to do whatever house elves did when no one was looking.

She turned to Harry and Lilian, both of them staring at the house.

“You grew up there?”, Harry asked, seemingly surprised. “It seems so… Cold.”

“It’s so big!”, Lilian chirped, amazed by it. Daphne couldn't really get it, but if it made Lilian happy, then well...

“First, that’s because you’re not in the guestbook, and second, mine is the smallest house between my friends.”, Daphne shrugged, and looked at the elf. “I'll get some breakfast ready, and you, Harry, wait here while I make it so you can enter. You’ll know when that happens. Lilian, you can come in, but if you want to explore the gardens, feel free to.”

Lilian nodded and went off running, and Daphne turned to Harry, touching his hand for the briefest of moments.

“I’ll be right back. If I’m not, teach Lilian fiendfyre and burn the mansion to the ground.”, a death by fire was better than whatever her ancestors could have planned, and Harry offered her a look that clearly said he was having way too much fun with this already.

“I’m not sure you should be so drastic, but duly noted,”, Harry replied, smiling softly and looking around.

Daphne took a deep breath and Apparated inside the old manor, arriving in the old entrance hall, dark and quiet, candles being lit when she stepped on the ground, illuminating the priceless antique decorations. Everything seemed spotless: there wasn't a mite of dust in the air, and part of her expected her parents to come in at any moment. Life had been frozen still in her house, and Daphne sighed, pressing the bridge of her nose. They weren’t at home anymore.

Daphne shook her head. She had to find the guestbook, not a gateway to memory lane. If she wasn’t mistaken, it should be in her father’s old study. Daphne went there, making a point to ignore the paintings of long dead family members, and they only watched her, eyes the same shade of grey as hers and hair in a myriad of colours.

She stopped only briefly in front of her favorite dead aunt - Ianthe Greengrass, who never interacted with the outside world and passed her days swinging on her swing, just enjoying life after death. She never bothered Daphne with anything, and was an example to a child who was bored to death with family history. Why worry about anything, if you could just swing eternally? Needless to say, the painting was kept in a place Daphne couldn't reach so easily, but she managed. Daphne nodded to her long-dead aunt, and kept moving.

Her father’s study, when she opened the door, was exactly as she remembered - dark and barely lit, bookshelves filling the walls with tomes considered too dangerous for the library, the heavy desk that had no papers anymore, and the closed curtains that she knew gave way to a veranda. On a corner of the table, the guestbook, thick and foreboding, a quill laying on top of it, the inkpot by its side glowing ominously. Daphne had no idea why it felt that way, or why the pot of ink glowed. Maybe to scare people, she guessed.

Daphne crossed her father’s old study - now hers, in theory - and opened the guestbook, eyes passing through the names of people long dead at the beginning, until the names she recognized started to pour in.

She found an empty space in the parchment pages, and wrote in Harry’s name carefully, the ink starting blood red and drying into brown quickly, her wrist stinging a bit. Daphne raised her sleeve, revealing a thin cut, and healed herself with a muttered spell. She had no idea the guestbook worked on blood magic, but it at least explained how all Greengrasses could enter with no problem. There was so much she didn’t know about the functions of her own family house, but how was she even _supposed_ to know? Her father had never thought Daphne would be the one to inherit the title; he had mentioned, once or twice, perhaps, that she’d have to find a husband willing to take in the surname, a second son or something, someone not as important.

The joke was on her father, though; the surname had passed on without Daphne ever marrying. That issue would be on Lilian, if she so choose to pass ahead the Greengrass surname, but if she didn’t, Daphne wouldn’t mind being the last of the Greengrass.

Daphne shook her head, driving away the depressing thoughts that had been sprung on her, and took a deep breath.

“Kiki,”, she called, the elf appearing almost automatically. Daphne straightened her back, and did her best to imitate what she could remember from her father, as shudder-worthy as it was. “Please tell Harry Potter, on the entrance, that he is welcome to come in, and prepare two rooms. I’d also like lunch to be ready at one, and dinner, at nine, breakfast at seven. If the food can be eaten on the go, better. We will be staying here until sunday night, so please see for these to be done.”

The elf seemed ready to cry - how long it had been since it had received orders? Hadn't it been when Daphne had left her home to live in her current apartment, just after she got her job as an Unspeakable? -, and Daphne changed the weight in her feet, uncomfortable.

“Yes, miss Greengrass,”, the elf said, disappearing, and Daphne let go a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Passing a hand through her hair, Daphne decided to get screamed at by her ancestors _now_ was better than to wait until sunday - not like they’d let her wait that long, anyway.

Daphne went to the place where she had had her lessons about family history, a small hallway whose wallpaper was paintings, a little ways from her childhood room - which she was sure still looked exactly like before, suffocating and dark -, but stopped just shy of the entrance, already feeling eyes on her. Daphne had not even wandered inside, by Merlin’s sake.

Still, she had been called home for some mysterious reason. Daphne entered the hallway, walking until she found the portrait she was most familiar with, and looked into old Markos Greengrass’ eyes, the man who was the oldest Greengrass on record staring back at her.

“I’d say my pleasantries, but I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible.”, Daphne crossed her arms, and she saw the man struggle to keep off a smile from his face, as the other portraits started to whisper. Had she been a little child, she’d be half afraid they’d tell her parents, but her parents weren’t home anymore. “What do you want?”

The whispers grew, but Daphne stood her ground. She wasn't that scared little girl anymore.

“We’ve heard from Heike Nott that you have a daughter.”, said one of her more illustrious ancestors, one Petros Greengrass, who also had a portrait in a long forgotten hallway near the Wizengamot. Ah, so _that_ was how they were getting their gossip. She made a mental note to tell Theo and Pansy that their portraits were leaking, and stared at the eyes of the man who had been dead for, perhaps, a hundred years. “We’d like to know _why_ wasn’t she raised as a proper pureblood, like she ought to.”

“I thought I, a proper pureblood, could raise another.”, Daphne replied, one eyebrow rising. So that was what it was about? Lilian?

“It’s not proper unless it’s on the manor grounds,”, one painting insisted, and Daphne didn't even glance in the voice’s direction. “There’s _mudbloods_ outside! What could have they taught her, when you were not keeping an eye?”

“You _do_ know we lost the war, right, Selene?”, asked Markos, and Daphne silently thanked him. At least he was sensible. She wondered how he knew. “Perhaps ‘mudblood’ isn’t the term you should be using.”

“Oh, _please_ , Markos, don’t try and be correct after you died,”, said one painting by his side, huffing and puffing. “We all know what they are.”

What had been Daphne’s reason to not burn them all again? She was struggling to remember. Soot and ashes _did_ match the decor...

“Yes, but have you considered that Heike also told us that he _didn’t_ know who the father was? It might have been a… Muggle.”, the gasps that echoed through the hallway after Markos' declaration were bordering on the ridiculous, as if Daphne had committed high treason. She wondered why she just didn’t brick this hallway and end this.

Accusations were thrown at her, at other ancestors for not doing a proper job raising Daphne, and Merlin and other powerful wizards, Daphne had enough.

“I will burn you all in five seconds if you don’t shut up and let me speak.”, Daphne said, not even raising her voice, but it was as if she had screamed - silence reigned, in that little cramped hallway. “Good. Whoever is my daughter’s father is of no concern to any of you, and if I am called here once more to discuss Heike Nott’s _gossip_ , I will burn all of you.”

“But we are your ancestors!”, Selene shrieked, and Daphne pressed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache start forming. “You cannot burn our paintings. We have to stay, to teach future generations about our story. _Your_ story.”

“As the current head of the Greengrass family, I say that I can do that myself, thank you very much for the kind offer.”, Daphne rose her eyes, letting go of her nose, and not bothering to face the painting. It was petty, perhaps, but Daphne really didn’t want to do anything that was more work than speaking. “I will spend the weekend here. Any of you tries to talk with my daughter, I will burn you. Any of you _looks_ in my direction, I will burn you. I hope this is understandable.”

“It’s perfectly understandable, lady Greengrass.”, Daphne was sure Markos was doing his very best not to laugh, but even the portraits could notice his failure, if the dark looks they sent him were any indication. “We will keep our distance.”

Daphne noticed movement from the corner of her eye, and turned to see Harry waving minimally. Daphne smiled, but knew she should keep a firm pulse with these paintings of old, spoiled purebloods, or else they would repeat their old habits.

“Thank you. I’ll be going.”, she didn’t wait for an answer, walking out of the oppressive, filled to the brim hallway, and into Harry. “Hey.”

“Hey,”, he greeted back, smiling and touching her softly as Daphne allowed herself to bury her head in his chest, shoulders sagging. Merlin, she _hated_ these paintings, she _hated_ that hallway, and she fully understood why Ianthe Greengrass plain refused to interact with anyone else. Swinging was so much fun, compared to this. “Do you want to hear what Lilian is up to?”

“Please.”, Daphne could swear she could feel Harry’s heartbeat, and closed her eyes, resting for a moment. She wondered how much he had heard. Not a lot, she hoped.

“Well, she’s going through what I’m almost sure is your old room. There are some pretty frilly dresses there.”, that snapped Daphne into action, stepping back, picking Harry by the hand and going in the direction of her old, stuffy room. Oh, by Merlin's name, the frilly dresses were hiding her childhood photos, and in the middle of  _those_ was that ridiculous photography of Astoria sneezing and doing accidental magic that changed her hair to a garish pink. She had to run and stop her daughter.

As she rose the stairs, Daphne was almost sure she saw Ianthe Greengrass wave at her, but it probably was a trick of the light. Ianthe never interacted with anyone - but still, Daphne offered a small wave back, just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember how a few chapters ago i said i'd go absolutely WILD on timeskips? well then straddle in your seatbelts cos next chapter i make due on that promise


	26. Chapter 26

Daphne was starting to tire of the same song and dance of the station 9 ¾, and wondered if it’d be bad parenting to skip it, give Lilian a portkey to the station or to her house and call it a day. Sure, it was probably exciting for parents who were taking their kids to Hogwarts for the first time, and it was probably sad when it was the last time, but the six years in between was basically a repeating montage of fog, whispers and animal screams.

“Are you ready to go, Scorp?”, asked Lilian passing a hand through her hair, now long without the need for extensions. It had taken a few years of research, but Lilian and Millicent had _finally_ figured out a cure for whatever the potion that stopped her hair growth had been. On the upside, Lilian was probably one of the youngest people with a potion registered with their name, at just fourteen years old. Well, her name and Millicent's, but no one needed to know.

Astoria, who seemed to be in a mood too good to be anything _less_ than a red flag, simply giggled as Scorpius nodded excitedly.

“Yes, I can’t wait! Lilian, can’t you _really_ tell me how one gets sorted?”, he pleaded, and Lilian grinned. Oh, Merlin save her, Lilian was up to no good. She knew just by the curve of her smile.

“Well, I can’t, but…”, she paused, dramatic, and Daphne could see something brewing in her daughter’s head. Draco seemed to be having issues controlling his upper lip, though, and Astoria kept her impish smile. “But there’s a fight with a troll. How you react decides which house you’ll go.”

“You’ve spoken too much, Lilian,”, hummed Astoria, sharing a knowingly glance with Draco as Daphne wondered if perhaps she should interfere, but she had done something vaguely similar with Astoria, under Blaise’s suggestion. It had been a terrible idea, of course, because Astoria had then spent most of the train ride trading spells with Blaise until Pansy broke down and said the truth after one spell too many grazed her. Astoria then had proceeded to glare at Daphne for three entire hours, which, while commendable, also had made her want to get some sort of iron item to touch her sister and see if it burned her.

“Aw, sorry, aunt Astoria, I just got so excited I forgot I wasn’t supposed to tell,”, pouted Lilian, but Daphne knew it wasn’t real. Scorpius seemed paler than usual, but she simply sighed. Let them have their fun; the boy would be relieved, later, when the Hat would be shown, but for now Daphne would let them pick on him.

However, she couldn’t let it pass in blank.

“Don’t listen to them, Scorpius,”, Daphne started, and the boy’s grey eyes stared back into hers. “It’s easier than they make it sound. You can take on a troll, as long as you trust yourself.”

Daphne was trying her best to make herself sound sure of what she was saying, like she had been able to take a troll at eleven years old and freshly getting in Hogwarts, while Lilian grinned like Daphne had given her a bag of galleons and free reign on the Portree market.

Maybe she could have a bit of fun. It couldn’t hurt too much, could it? Astoria and Draco stopped near a pillar, in a corner that seemed more vacant than the rest of the train station, and Daphne wondered why.

“Lily!”, called Molly, making her daughter turn and forget about Scorpius momentarily, waving to the redhead girl. Luckily for Daphne, Molly’s father seemed to be engrossed with discussing with someone. Daphne made the decision to  _ not  _ approach and pretend she didn’t see him, for the sake of herself.

“Molly!”, called back Lilian, waving to Molly, who approached. Lilian looked to Scorpius - he was always wary of strangers, an eternal shy child, even around friends he had known basically since he had been born -, nodding to him as Molly approached. “This is my cousin Scorpius, he’s a first year! Scorp, this is Molly!”

“Hi Scorpius, are you ready to face an acromantula?”, Molly hummed, starting to move for the train, Lilian and Scorpius making the same movement unconsciously. 

Scorpius stared at Lilian, then at his parents, and back to Lilian and Molly.

“I thought it was a troll?”, he asked, and Lilian grinned, childish.

“Sometimes it’s both! Wasn’t it like that last year?”, she hummed, and Molly nodded. The two girls entered the train, and Draco stepped forward. “Oh, Scorp, seems like uncle Draco wants to talk with you. Mom, we’ll be off, okay?”

“Write me.”, Daphne should, probably, care more about her daughter leaving to Hogwarts, but it was the fourth time. The shine wore off, at some point. 

Lilian, however, just grinned and entered the train, saying something to Scorpius she couldn't hear. Daphne decided it was a good time as ever to buy something to drink. Coffee, perhaps. No milk. Something to drown the moroseness that seemed to have taken root in her mind.

While she waited for her drink to get ready - seems like even wizards had to wait for their coffee -, she heard that familiar wave of whispers, but now doubled, and tried to remind herself why that would have happened. It was only when she saw Harry and Hermione Granger, through the seemingly myriad of heads turning in the same direction, that she reminded that Granger had had a kid around the same time as Astoria. Daphne hadn’t given it any thought, at the time.

Still, as she sipped her coffee, that meant that now all of the Golden Trio (what an awful name, Merlin, to give a bunch of teenagers who had just saved the world) had children going to Hogwarts. That probably was why the number of whispers seemed to have grown from one year to another. Daphne decidedly wasn’t going to approach the crowd - they seemed to have grown in thickness, like some potion left to boil for too long.

However, luck seemed to be on her side, that day, because her spot near the wall just outside the coffee shop seemed just  _ perfect  _ for watching Harry speak with Ginevra, Granger and Weasley, the kids chatting between themselves for a moment. James seemed to be saying something to Albus, perhaps, and the boy cried out for his father. Ah, how they grew up so fast. It seemed like it had been yesterday when she had read the birth announcement in the newspaper and had wondered what was going on with Harry to name his kid  _ Albus Severus.  _ Sure, he probably had wanted to name his kid after important people in his life, but Daphne had no idea why he had named a kid after a professor that hated him, and it wasn’t like he had told her why. 

Many of the things after the war had never been said, and both had thought it best at the time. Probably, why Snape’s name was his kid’s name was one of these things. Daphne sipped at her coffee once more, listening to the familiar whistle of the train, fog seeming to grow thicker. Daphne lost the famous crowd for a moment, but soon found it again - Harry had taken the one going to Hogwarts aside, talking to him, and Daphne averted her eyes. That seemed private.

She noticed Lilian popping off on a window, Scorpius by her side as the boy chatted with his parents. Daphne couldn’t see Molly - just a little smudge of red -, but she was glad Scorpius wasn’t alone. Would Nerine and Nicholas join them? She hoped so. Scorpius needed more friends.

Harry let go of his kid, the boy entering the train as he joined Ginevra, close to her s if in love. Daphne wondered if, perhaps, she shouldn’t go to work already, feeling jealousy stab her chest. She knew he didn’t love Ginevra, but the act they put in public still hurt. Sure, it wouldn’t have hurt, hadn’t she been a coward, but that wasn’t possible anymore.

The train started to move, and somehow, Lilian found her, eyes meeting as her little girl waved at her. Daphne smiled, using her free hand to wave back, keeping her eyes focused on the moving train until Lilian disappeared inside. She only left her spot when the train was gone, her coffee cold as she tried to sip it once more. Daphne sighed, deciding that work had waited long enough, and made a motion to leave.

Or else, she would, had not the crowd seem to pick up and thicken out, as if reading her mind. Daphne pressed herself against the wall, Vanishing away her cold coffee, and waited.

She didn’t wait alone too long, though, because when Granger and Weasley passed by, talking with Ginevra and Harry, Lily Luna walking by her mother’s side, he made a vague, almost wordless motion to pick up some coffee, detaching himself from them before anyone could speak anything about it and going into the coffee shop.

Daphne didn’t follow him, because she knew he’d find her. Or so she hoped, anyway. It was probably a bit cocky, but Daphne couldn’t muster enough will to care.

Soon enough, however, Harry rested by her side, sipping his coffee.

“Congratulations on sending one more into Hogwarts,”, she told him, looking to the place the train was barely ten minutes ago. “Where do you think he will be?”

“Gryffindor, I suppose. Half of my kids have been, at least,”, Harry shrugged, and Daphne could see it.

“She’s not yours.”, it felt pointless to say it, especially so when Lilian was basically a mini-Harry, but her fear of others listening and connecting the dots spoke louder.

“Are we going to have this song and dance every time one of them goes to Hogwarts?”, Harry asked, looking at her, and Daphne smiled tightly. “I mean, it gets pretty repetitive after a while.”

“I suppose it does. Will I see you tomorrow or the day after?”, Daphne asked, knowing the answer already. It had been like that with James, and it’d be like that with Albus. “Do remind yourself that I have the day after tomorrow off, so don’t burn the coffee.”

“Don’t you know me so well.”, he sipped his coffee once more. “See you soon.”

“See you soon,”, Daphne echoed, watching Harry dive in the crowd once more, and sighing. She’d receive a letter from Lilian tomorrow morning, anyway. 

Deciding she had spent enough time doing nothing, Daphne went to work. Her experiments needed her.


	27. Chapter 27

Daphne read the first line of Lilian’s letter and knew the poor boy was going to be in trouble. Lilian’s scrawl (getting progressively worse with every year, which was a feat in itself, and Daphne wasn’t going to discuss it until it became unreadable) told her that the train trip had been fun and nice, and when she and Molly had come back from a game of Exploding Snap they had gone watch, she had found Scorpius making friends with Albus and Rose - apparently, _that_ was the name of Granger’s kid. Who knew? -, and the two of them had decided to not interfere. Daphne was sure Astoria would appreciate Scorpius being left to make friends on his own.

During the Sorting, though, was when issues came - Scorpius went to Slytherin, which Daphne had _not_ seen coming. The boy just didn’t seem like a Slytherin, too soft and quiet for it. But then, wasn’t a snake that could pass up as something else the best sort of snake? It was a question to be pondered at a later date.

The second issue was Albus’ sorting - Slytherin as well, in a family of Gryffindors (so far; who knew what Lily Luna would end up being?), which was bound to not be well seen. Poor kid. Daphne kept reading, finding other little notes on her impressions, but at this point, it was the same thing as always. That is, until the end of the letter, of course.

“ _ I’ll keep an eye on him, mum, don’t worry.”,  _ Lilian had written, letters careful, almost as if she had taken care to write each letter. “ _ And if anyone tries anything, I’ll defend both Scorpius and Albus!” _

Daphne made a move for the writing materials before she realized what she was doing, quill being dipped in ink and writing a quick note, hunched over her desk. Had she Apparated to her own room, or had she been that hasty? She didn’t know.

“ _ Be careful,”, _ Daphne was able to write, before hearing her door open. Her head rose, eyes focused on the door as Harry appeared.

“Harry,”, she breathed, and he seemed - confused. Maybe he had received the news, as well. “Are you alright?”

Harry stalled, blinking in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected that question.  No, scratch that; Harry seemed as if he hadn’t expected _anything_ , confusion shining as bright as the sun in his eyes.

“I…”, he started, only to stop for a moment. Daphne let go of her quill, going to Harry, hugging him for a moment.

“What’s wrong? Lilian told me.”, it wasn’t _that_ of a dramatic thing, really, but it seemed as if it was the end of the world. _Hah_.

Not even close, but the end of the world seemed different for all. Hers had been when she had to decide what to do in regards to her pregnancy; Harry was about his kid being sorted.

“Yes, it’s just… I never imagined. I keep thinking…”, Daphne gently guided Harry to her couch, the two of them sitting. She waved her wand, an incantation leaving her lips so that the machine could make some coffee on its own, and faced Harry, who seemed deep in thought. “I never told you about Tom, did I?”

“Tom?”, Daphne asked, incredulous, trying to remember if there was any Tom or Thomas in her year, above or under. She couldn't remember.

“Tom Riddle. You may have known him as Voldemort, but that was years before he was Voldemort. Maybe not, though.”, the way Harry spoke the Dark Lord’s name was so casual, Daphne almost forgot it had been a taboo once. “But that’s beyond the point.”

“What does he have to do with anything?”, Daphne was doing her best to not sound annoyed, and Harry simply smiled, far away from the current time. 

“He didn’t seem like a Slytherin, if you looked at him. Muggleborn, quiet. It’s silly, but I’m a bit afraid Albus will turn out like him.”

Daphne could only stare in disbelief at Harry. Was he _really_ thinking that sort of stuff? Albus was his son, for Merlin's sake.

“Harry, I’m going to please ask you look at me and use that brain of yours for three seconds,”, Daphne started, gently pulling his face towards hers, finger pressing just gently enough on him. “What house was I sorted?”

“Slytherin,”, he replied, brow furrowing. Daphne could feel the question of what this had to do with his current dilemma coming, but she kept going.

“What house was Astoria sorted?”, she asked, once more, and knew what answer was coming. “Wasn’t it Slytherin?”

“Yes, but I’m not understanding.”, it seemed like Daphne was going to have to spell it, then. Merlin, this was the man that was Lilian’s father. The fact she was so smart probably came from… Astoria. Daphne wasn’t the brightest herself, too focused on planning to think on the fallout, but Astoria, with her faery-like intelligence, was more similar to Lilian.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that not all Slytherins are evil, you thick-headed idiot,”, Daphne said, kissing him as softly as she could. “And if you treat your son like he is a spell just about to explode, he will be evil.”

“You have a point,”, Harry replied, kissing her back. “I’ll make a note to treat him fairly.”

Daphne separated from him, looking into Harry’s green eyes. Had she heard correctly? Make a note to treat him fairly?

Perhaps she had been right to not marry him.

“He’s your _son_ , you shouldn’t have to _make note._ ”, there was a twinge of horror in her voice Daphne couldn’t hide, and it seemed to startle Harry as well. “Just treat him as you are currently, unless, of course, you’re favoring James and Lily Luna.”

Harry stopped, face screwed in concentration, and Daphne rose up, deciding to give him a moment to think alone. He seemed to need it. She went to the kitchen, deciding to drink some coffee and ponder.

Daphne did not understand why all that drama was happening; having a child be Sorted in Slytherin wasn’t a thrice-damned blood crime, was it, now? But then, again, Daphne had come from a family that encouraged kids ended up in Slytherin, or Ravenclaw, if anything. Wouldn’t, as such, Harry’s current situation be similar to the one she had had with Lilian, barely four years ago? Daphne was almost sure she hadn’t reacted like Harry had, but perhaps that was just her own biased point of view.

She grabbed the still warm mug of coffee, sipping on it briefly and putting in a bit of sugar for herself, before making one for Harry, the smell of coffee filling her lungs as she breathed in slowly. Daphne had to keep a level head and try and make it seem as if having a kid in Slytherin wasn’t a show of horrors as it was probably painted on families were just _being_ a Slytherin was a crime on itself. Perspective, Daphne noticed with quiet but familiar ease, was a different thing for all beings. She probably should have noticed that sooner, but who had the time to reflect nowadays?

Shaking her head, Daphne grabbed the mug with freshly made coffee and went back to the living room, where Harry seemed to be in deep thought. She sat by his side, gently putting the mug in his hands, and that seemed to startle him.

“Are you alright?”, Daphne asked, and Harry drank his coffee for a moment, still seemingly thinking about it.

“Yes. I think it was just the surprise of it all. I never expected any of my kids to actually go to Slytherin, but I should have.”, there was another pause, another gulp of coffee, and Daphne sipped on her own, letting Harry think. “Maybe I should send him something.”

“It is customary to send a scarf or a brooch.”, Daphne supplied, and Harry frowned. She sent him a quizzical look, almost asking if his guardians hadn’t sent anything, or taught him that little, but she preferred not to. Harry had implied, once or twice, he didn’t have the best guardians; better to not mess with that particular nest of spiders. “Pureblood tradition, don’t worry your pretty head.”

Harry nodded, shoulders visibly relaxing. She had sent a wand-knit scarf for Lilian, in red and gold. The spell had been pretty handy; perhaps she should teach Harry.

“I think I’m going to buy a scarf, on the way to work,”, he decided, rising up, and Daphne glanced at the clock, cursing herself. She was going to be late if she didn’t leave her house in the next five minutes, rising to her feet and almost flying to her room, Harry bursting into laughter as she tried to get ready.

“ _This_ is all your fault!”, Daphne hissed, but Harry’s only answer was more laughter.

When Daphne came back home from work, trying to remember how to take off blood spots from her clothes, she found the letter she had tried to write to Lilian, and sat back at her desk, wondering what she could possibly write, her scrawled  _ be careful  _ looking back at her. Daphne put a comma in place, and took a deep breath.

_ Be careful, but try to not get too involved. You two look alike; remember that whispers fly. _

Daphne smiled to herself, putting a strand of stray hair behind her ear, before writing the rest of the letter. That would work.


	28. Chapter 28

Christmas party was weird, if any word could describe it properly. Daphne sat in her usual chair, as every year, flanked on one side by Blaise and on another by Astoria, sipping her champagne as she distractedly kept an eye on the children (this year, as the last one, forbidden from listening to the conversation). What made it weird was one of Harry’s children in the middle of the children, playing Gobstones and winning against Nicholas as Lilian and Scorpius egged him on. 

Daphne couldn’t help but wonder what Lilian felt like, side by side with her brother and her cousin, and only one was publicly related to her. No, scratch _that_ \- how was she able to be side by side with Albus these two years, and not speak anything about the subject? How had the boy not noticed that they looked alike? How had  _ Scorpius  _ not noticed? Well, considering Albus’ presence at the party, maybe he had, but decided to not say anything about it. It was an option.

It had all started when Scorpius had asked Astoria and Draco if Albus could come to the party - the two had hit off really well, perhaps  _ too  _ well, but who was Daphne to say anything about childhood friendships? -, and Astoria had relayed the message to Daphne, telling her to prepare herself because Astoria was allowing it. 

“So, you’re telling me that  _ she  _ knows?”, Pansy asked, and Daphne wasn’t even surprised Pansy was the first to react. It was always like that. 

“Yes, I think I made that pretty clear last year.”, Daphne sipped her champagne, and wondered if she could skip this entire conversation at once. Pansy looked at her, flabbergasted, and hissed at Draco when he let a chuckle out. 

“And you’re not afraid that the boy will have feelings for Lilian?”, Pansy asked, as Scorpius threw himself over Albus, the two boys grinning at each other like nothing else in the world mattered but that moment. “I mean, they seem close, even Nerine -  _ Nerine,  _ Daphne - said as much!”

Daphne sipped her champagne, looking back to Pansy, and Draco offered another barely hidden chuckle. At least he seemed to not care, which… Was none of her business, really. Adoption did exist… Daphne shook her head minimally, clearing her thoughts.

“I’m not worried. Besides, Lilian knows how to handle her problems.”, Daphne looked at the children again, and it seemed almost like they were holding hands. “And if you ask me about their closeness, I suppose it’s because Scorpius is close to Lilian, and Albus stuck with it. Besides, Pansy, I don’t think you should worry your pretty head about this.”

“Pansy has a point, Daphne,”, Blaise started, and she looked at him. What was he going on about now? “I mean, you can be sure that Lilian can deal with it on her own, but that’s because she knows the truth. The boy doesn’t, does he?”

As far as Daphne knew, no, but considering her child had kept it a secret from Daphne for a year, who knew? She looked at the children, but they didn’t seem interested in anything else but their game.

She'd have to guess a tentative yes. There was no way the boy - a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake! - didn't notice anything. Lilian had said he was clever; and if her own daughter had somewhat guessed it, what stopped Albus from doing the same?

However, if he wasn't going to come out to Daphne and say that he knew, she wasn't going to press it. Let him play the game, if he was doing that. And if he wasn't, well - Daphne wasn't going to reveal.

“They look so alike, I’d be surprised if the boy didn’t notice it,”, said Draco, looking into the children’s group direction. Lilian seemed to take on Albus’ spot, going against Mattie, grinning like this was the most important thing in the world. In a way, it was - they had no war to worry about, after all. 

During the parties Draco’s father used to give, all the adults did was talk to themselves about whatever movement the Dark Lord was pushing. The children, as such, had no time to play and be children, like theirs had, also gossiping and scheming about what their parents were speaking about.

“He is Harry Potter’s son, though, and Harry wasn’t exactly known to be particularly bright,”, pointed out Tracey, shrugging. “I mean, do you guys remember when he was stalking Draco? He wasn’t particularly subtle about it. We knew, Draco knew, even  _ Dumbledore  _ knew, and he wasn’t even inside the school most of the year!”

Daphne remembered, but vaguely - during their school years, Draco had been almost all the time raving about Harry, so she had tuned most of it out. It hadn’t mattered, after the first few “Potter is doing something, I’m telling my father about this”, that had nothing coming out of it. Now that she remembered, she had even mocked him about the subject.

“So you’re saying that, even though he and Lilian look like twins separated by a few years, the boy won’t notice?”, Draco interjected, and Tracey shrugged once more, resting against her chair, her case rested.

“Yes, that is what Tracey is saying.”, Daphne waved him off, and Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh, come _on_ , Draco. Lilian didn’t notice that Harry and she looked alike, and I have  _ mirrors  _ in my house.”

“So what you’re trying to say, Daphne, is that being as perceptive as a brick comes from his side of the family?”, Astoria interjected, bright and cheery as usual. Daphne glared at her, and Astoria simply smiled. “Not that I’m complaining, Lilian could be someone else’s daughter. Blaise's. Can you imagine Blaise's kid?”

"I take offense, Astoria.", Blaise said, but his smile didn't say anything of that. "Besides, who knows? I might have a kid already."

"Merlin save us, then.", Alright, that was going too far. Daphne sighed, passing a hand through her hair.

“But then she wouldn’t be Lilian, she’d be someone else entirely.”, Daphne interjected, and noticed the children looking in their direction. She frowned, and wondered if maybe Pansy and Theo hadn’t taken the Extendable Ear from Nicholas and Nerine, after all.

She wasn’t the only one to notice - Pansy’s tense smile was an indication of it, after all -, and Theo, noticing his wife’s smile, waved to the children. Scorpius was the first to approach, Albus following him, and Lilian simply smiled, as if a protective older sister.

In a way, Daphne mused, she was, wasn’t she? Daphne sipped her champagne, listening to Scorpius - who used to be such a shy child, hiding behind the skirts of his mother or whatever other adult figures he happened to be with - ask, excitedly, if he could show Albus the family library. Draco seemed amused, and let the two boys go, running towards the oaken door that separated the ballroom they were in from the rest of the house.

“Wait a moment, you two!”, called Nicholas, leaving the gobstones haphazardly thrown behind as he went after Albus and Scorpius, Nerine and Mattie following him. Lilian, grinning like a child she wasn’t anymore, waved her wand, a spell leaving her lips so that the stones would organize themselves before she ran off. Daphne relaxed in her seat, a sigh leaving her lips. It was almost like she had siblings. Merlin, Daphne wished she could have given her some, but...

“They grow so fast,”, she said, trying to forget her train of thought, and let the soft murmurs of agreement between her peers wash over her. Soon enough, Lilian would be graduating - it was just two years of schooling she had left, now -, and that meant that, soon enough, she and Harry would…

Daphne washed away the thought with what was left of champagne in her flute. It was better to leave some things unsaid, unthought. And even then, it was still a measly  _ if. _ She shouldn’t get her hopes up, not yet, at least.


	29. Chapter 29

“I think I want to be an Auror,”, Lilian started, and Daphne choked on her tea. Harry patted her on the back, looking wildly to Lilian, and the girl seemed unwavering, before cracking a smile. “It’s a joke, don’t worry.”

“Don’t make these sorts of jokes,”, Daphne managed to spit out, still feeling her throat hurting from the tea. She stopped, considering for a moment. Lilian was going to her last year of schooling in one day, and that meant that soon, she’d be out of her house to search for a profession. “I don’t mind if you do decide to change professions, but please don’t announce that sort of thing at the table.”

Daphne used her brief downtime to rise up and grab a glass of water as Lilian grumbled, eating her breakfast, and Harry went back to his newspaper.

“Then I probably shouldn’t mention I’m getting a divorce,”, Harry said, from behind his newspaper, and Daphne almost let the glass of water she was grabbing fall. _Almost_. She looked at Harry, grabbing through the newspaper a barely suppressed grin. 

Lilian was the first to react, mostly because Daphne was still in shock. Harry? Getting a  _ divorce?  _ And there were no journalists after him like bloodhounds? Was she dreaming? Merlin, she had wanted that, but she never thought it would become true one day.

“Are you serious, father?”, Lilian asked, jumping from her seat, hands slapping against the table. She looked at Harry, who folded the newspaper, a smile gracing his face. “Are you really going to marry mum?”

“If she’ll have me, sure.”, Harry seemed to blush a little, and he looked at Daphne. “Will you?”

He was full of hope, if the look in his green eyes was any indication, and Daphne blinked quickly, tears blurring her world for a moment.

“Do you ask me because you expect me to say no? Because I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed,”, Daphne replied, and it was Harry’s turn to rise up, approaching Daphne. Lilian made a quick exit from the kitchen, saying something about Molly or Astoria or whatever; she couldn’t focus on anything but Harry. Harry touched her waist lightly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, waiting.

When the sound of the door closing resonated through the empty kitchen, Daphne decided to speak.

“What about your children?”, she asked, voice with just the slightest of trembles. He put one hand on her cheek, thumb caressing her face softly, carefully. “Won’t they mind?”

“I told them, and they didn’t seem to mind. I think they knew, in a way,”, Harry said, kissing her softly, and Daphne allowed herself to melt into it. Merlin, she never had thought that day would come - no, scratch; she had never even entertained the possibility of a divorce.

A divorce was absolutely scandalous, to proper wizarding society; it was believed a couple should stay together until death. Sure, divorces _were_ available, but they weren’t exactly common. To have Harry divorcing, especially so when the news reported a happy marriage, was unforeseen. Would he shut up Skeeter? What would he do? And what would Daphne do, most importantly?

“So… You’re free, so to speak?”, Daphne asked, hands lowering to play with the topmost buttons of his shirt.

“Well, I do have a bunch of repressed trauma, four children and a divorce on my back, but yes, I’m free as they come,”, Harry replied, kissing Daphne once more. Daphne was almost sure Lilian wouldn’t come home until later, so she decided to have her fun. She was allowed, wasn’t she? 

Separating herself from Harry for a brief second, she grabbed his hand, pulling him along to her room. She deserved a sick day - her experiments were all done with, and honestly, it was a time to commemorate. At least, for her, it was.

As such, the following morning, Daphne did her best to untangle herself from the bed before Harry even  _ thought  _ about waking up, but to her disappointment, he was already gone. She sighed, passing a hand through her messy hair, and decided to take a bath before tackling the issue of breakfast and the like.

It wasn’t an issue, however, because when Daphne got out of the bathroom, dressed in her best work robes, she found Lilian finishing up pancakes, skillfully using her wand to flip them over, keeping some on air with a spell while she fried another. Efficient, perhaps, but showy.

“Really?”, Daphne asked, and Lilian turned, using her wand to make one pancake stay in the air, the other falling down. Really interesting. Lilian grinned, and waved - with her hand, this time - at the stack of pancakes neatly put on a plate. “Lilian, you shouldn’t have.”

“Well, I figured you deserved something nice for once, you know, mum?”, Lilian hummed, turning back to her little pancake trick. “Besides, I’m not going to be around forever to make nice things.”

“Sweetheart, you’re going to an internship in Venice, if what your uncle Blaise organized doesn’t fall apart because whatever lover he took broke things up messily.”, Daphne decided to make herself some coffee. She had been having much more of a taste for coffee, recently, hadn’t she? 

“Venice is still far away, and it means I’m going straight after my graduation.”, Lilian replied, and Daphne smiled to herself. “And besides, it’s a three-year program. I’ve heard professor Leandro is very harsh… Or so said professor Bulstrode.”

Daphne had vague memories of that lover of Blaise’s, and she wasn’t going to divulge she was a softie. No, let Lilian have some discoveries to herself.

“But I don’t think I have to worry anymore, do I?”, Lilian said, and Daphne raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean, you got father now. Officially, I mean. It’s nice. For you.”

“I wish it could’ve been sooner, but Harry had an agreement with Ginevra.”, she grabbed her coffee mug, sipping it and gagging. It was _burnt_ , for Merlin’s sake. It was, probably, the second time she had burnt coffee with that machine.

Maybe it was a sign of things to come? She sipped her burnt coffee once more, and cast, almost lazily, a time spell, eyes wide open when she took notice of it. She must’ve made some noise, because Lilian turned, looking at the time and paling.

“I don’t assume you want to be late?”, Daphne asked, and Lilian levitated the two pancakes she was making into the plate, wolfing down one too quickly to be healthy as Daphne went to pick up Lilian’s trunk. She, herself, would have to eat something other than bitter, burnt coffee on the way to work, but right now, that didn’t exactly matter. 

After she picked up Lilian’s trunk, levitating them behind her as she went, Daphne picked up her purse, finding Lilian already waiting for her. She let the trunks fall gently on the floor - the sound of clinking glass inside told her that probably Lilian had something going on that Daphne probably shouldn’t know -, and Lilian grabbed them.

“Alright, now let’s run off and hope the Knight Bus isn’t too full,”, Daphne said, and hoped she’d arrive in time.

Luckily for them, it wasn’t; it seemed as if Daphne and Lilian weren’t the only ones to get almost late. It was a bit of a fight to get through the portal, but at least the train hadn’t gone to Hogwarts. That was something to be happy for.

Lilian found Molly almost automatically, the two girls hugging each other.

“Lily! I was looking for you!”, Molly said, hugging Lilian for a brief moment, shining brightly. Perhaps…? Ah, well. It wasn’t any of Daphne’s business. Molly, as if noticing Daphne was also there, let go of Lilian, blushing slightly. “And hello, Mrs. Greengrass.”

“Hello there, Molly.”, Daphne smiled slightly. “Don’t you two have a train to catch?”

“We do! Bye, mum!”, Lilian chirped, picking up her trunk and going, arm in arm with Molly, to the train, offering Daphne a small wave. Daphne waved back, hearing Molly saying something about Scorpius and Albus already being there, but Daphne wasn’t in the mood to go looking for Astoria and Draco. She decided to get something to eat, listening to the familiar, now nostalgic, sound of the train’s whistle, and sighed.

This was _truly_ Lilian’s last time on the train, wasn’t it? Merlin, how time passed by fast. It seemed like it was yesterday she had been sent to Hogwarts for the first time. Still, her daughter was grown, sending herself out in the world. She should be happy she had been able to raise a kid alone, shouldn’t she?

“Hello there,”, she heard a familiar voice say, and turned her head to find Harry, grinning sheepishly. She smiled at him. “It’s been a long while, hasn’t it?”

“Maybe.”, she replied. Harry and Daphne started walking to the outside before the other parents even had the same idea, slowly and quietly trying to not call attention to themselves. “Would you like to have some coffee, perhaps?”

“As long as it isn’t burnt, sure.”, he replied, and Daphne laughed. 

“So you won’t be making it, then.”, Harry took her hand onto his, and while it startled her at first, Daphne allowed herself to ease. This was her life, from now on, wasn’t it? She had her happy ending, even if it took a while. 

Daphne put a strand of hair behind her ear, offering a quiet smile to Harry, and he smiled back at her, holding her hand just a little bit tighter. Life would be wonderful, from now on. 


	30. Epilogue

Harry woke up slowly, and if his internal clock was any indication, it was probably just after the sunrise. His wife - it was still a bit weird to call Daphne  _ his wife,  _ but mostly because it made him grin like a lunatic every time - was still sound asleep on the bed, and Harry decided that he could let her sleep a bit more, taking the hair out of her face and kissing her cheek for a moment. She was so tired, lately; letting her sleep in was something Daphne deserved.

With a sigh, he rose up from the bed, putting on his glasses and opening the curtains just a tiny bit to confirm that yes, his internal clock was correct, the soft light blinding him for a moment. Harry closed the windows and slowly moved to the other room, where his daughter was asleep.

He hadn’t planned on having another child - no, having four was enough for Harry. However, life hadn’t liked that decision, and he had a fifth child, a little girl he and Daphne named Ianthe - not for anyone who had died; Harry figured that he had paid his due, in that regard. The name still paid homage to someone, though: an aunt of Daphne’s that had invented something or another -, but  _ Greengrass  _ instead of  _ Potter. _ Harry figured he had enough kids to pass the Potter name forward, while Daphne only had Lilian.

He stared down his daughter, watching her sleep peacefully for a moment; if Lilian looked like him, he supposed Ianthe looked like Daphne, straight black hair and grey eyes and the same nose. How odd were those things. Harry messed carefully with the baby's hair, doing his best to not wake her up as she stirred, quietly, almost holding his breath. 

When she didn’t wake up, Harry sighed, shoulders relaxing, and decided to get a headstart on breakfast. Lilian, Albus and Lily would be coming soon. James hadn’t said anything in that regard, but Harry knew it was discomfort over... Well, everything.

Harry had been surprised when his kids had accepted the divorce from their mother so quickly, but Albus - always quick and perceptive, that one; Harry had no idea who he had taken it from - told him that at least he and Lily had seen it coming, something in their mannerisms or something. James was always too much like him at the same age, thick-headed and foggy, to see things for what they were. As such, Albus had accepted it rather easily, even if he had paused when he learned  _ who  _ he was remarrying for a mere second, and then asking something, in a mumble, about Scorpius. That was rather cute, Harry supposed, picking up the ingredients for pancakes. Lily, meanwhile, had just shrugged and said it meant she now got  _ twice  _ the gifts, and Harry hadn't need to worry anymore about how she had gone to Slytherin as well.

He also had been surprised at how easily Hermione and Ron had gotten over the divorce subject, as well - Hermione had listened to it baffled and with a vein popping dangerously on her forehead, and Ron had just looked at him like Harry hadn’t been telling him he was going to divorce his sister.

“You know what, Harry, you’re pretty grown to know what you’re doing. And _you_!”, she turned to face Ron, and he looked at Hermione, almost bored with the entire situation. “He’s divorcing Ginny and you’re not even reacting!”

“Ginny told me to expect a divorce a few years ago, and honestly, Harry, you just made me lose a bet I had with George, so thanks.”, he pointed out, shrugging, and Hermione seemed to get red. “Besides, it’s not like he’s seventeen, right? I mean, he’s old enough to know what’s best for himself.”

Ron was being surprisingly cool with everything, which… Came as a surprise, really. Of course, Harry had been pleasantly glad of Ron’s acceptance, until he smiled.

“However, I will be really pissed if you neglect my nephews.”, and while Harry wasn’t usually afraid of Ron, he decided to make an exception here. 

Harry was halfway through the second pile of pancakes when he heard the sound of the door opening, the voices of Lilian guiding Albus and Lily inside. Now that he thought about it, Lily and Albus had only come over briefly once, didn’t they? When Ginny had gone to cover a game in Russia and she didn’t want to leave Lily alone for the week; Albus had come with her, and so did James. Well, James didn’t need to come, exactly - he was an adult already at the time, living on his own -, but Harry made the polite guess that he didn’t want to leave his younger siblings alone. On the other hand, however, he did disappear to a friend’s house after a day or two with sagged shoulders, and Harry took it as approval.

Had Harry been reckless with his decision to divorce? Probably, considering he was a public figure and all that jazz. Had it made him significantly happier? Of course it had, even Molly had noticed - at the time, she had simply sighed, patted his hair as if he was the same gangly kid she had met and made a vague comment to bring out his other daughter to Christmas as well -, and she had spoken nothing of it. Harry only hadn’t divorced Ginny earlier because he feared the reaction of others, but perhaps he should have, if they all would have accepted it so easily. Even Skeeter had been easy to control with little protest - sure, he had asked Ginny to slip her an Animagus permit, but he didn't expect that to actually work. On the other hand, Ginny had said she had spoken something about the subject...

Harry was taken out of his thoughts with the sound of the door opening, hearing Lilian and Albus chat about something as Lily almost flew in, going for the kitchen almost automatically, holding Salem in her arms. Lily was excited about something, and Harry was _almost_ sure it had everything to do with the fat cat on her hands.

“Hi, father. Where’s mum?”, Lilian asked, sitting as Lily jumped excitedly into place, the cat seemingly not noticing. Harry had no idea how. “Luna has decided that she’s taking Salem to Hogwarts with her, by the way.”

To make matters easy, the two just called each other by their middle names. Harry didn’t think it was easy at all, but it was none of his business.

“Yeah, and it’s because Salem has been  _ so  _ sad he’s leaving Hogwarts this year,”, sighed Albus, who had  _ also  _ adopted the cat. Harry sneaked a look at the cat, who seemed fat and content. The sadness was probably leaving the feast behind.

“Lilian, your mother is asleep, and I ask you three to make as little noise as possible because Ianthe is asleep.”, Albus nodded quickly, and Lily at least stopped jumping into place, letting Salem go. She sat by Lilian’s side, Albus in front of his little sister, and Harry levitated the pile of pancakes to the table, picking up plates and cutlery himself. “Alright, which of you wants to tell me what has happened this year?”

Lily jumped on her chair as Harry put the tableware in front of his children, and Harry sensed he knew why Neville had been having more grey hairs lately.

“Dad, did I tell you how I _accidentally_ made a new plant?”, Lily said, eyes shining. Harry wasn’t so sure on the “accidentally” part, but he shook his head as Albus sighed. He had a feeling the boy had been through hell and back, this year. “Well, it all started when Arachne sent me a potion to make hair grow…”

“In my defense, Luna said it was because she wanted longer hair,”, Lilian interrupted, eating her pancakes, but Lily didn’t seem to notice. Harry listened to the story, wondering if that was how professor McGonagall felt at the end of the day, when Harry and his friends had just done something previously thought to be unfathomable, such as finding the Chamber of Secrets, fighting and winning against a basilisk at age 12. Probably, he reckoned.

Daphne arrived with a yawn as Lily finished her story, and Lilian greeted her with a small wave, Albus nodding to his stepmother for a brief moment.

“... And then when I accidentally dropped  _ another  _ hair growth potion, I think professor Longbottom fainted, but I’m not sure because the other students started screaming.”, Lily finished, with a shrug, and she turned to Daphne, who quietly sat down by Harry’s side. Ianthe still seemed half-asleep, but Harry wouldn’t count on it too long. “And hi, Daphne!”

“Hello, Lily, Lilian, Albus. Lily, I do hope you’re planning on leaving Hogwarts in one piece.”, Daphne said, picking up a plate to herself with magic, eyeing the pile of pancakes. Perhaps Harry should make more. “And besides the general destruction of Hogwarts as we know it, what did I miss?”

“I sealed a very interesting deal with Al’s help. Apparently,”, Lilian pointed her fork at Albus, who blushed quite a bit as a smirk played on his older sister’s lips. “, mum, father, did you know the french  _ really  _ like black hair and green eyes?”

“Scorpius is  _ so  _ going to kill me,” Albus moaned, and Daphne laughed a bit, her face lit with a smile that made Harry’s heart melt.

However, when Ianthe started crying, Daphne rose up, looking worried. Harry, however, rose up as well, putting up a hand on Daphne’s shoulder.

“I’ll go. Eat, you haven’t yet,”, he hummed, leaving Daphne on the table, and Albus rose up as well, muttering something about having a cute little sister for once while Lily started her tale of the future demise of Neville. Harry made a mental note to send him some firewhiskey as he made his way to Ianthe’s room - Lilian’s old room, since she had moved to live with Molly in Italy. Harry politely pretended to not see the rings in their fingers when he occasionally saw Molly around, sleuthing some story or another, or when Lilian appeared. -, and Albus seemed silent behind him.

Harry approached Ianthe’s crib quietly, and while he checked her up, trying to give Daphne at least a few moments to eat something before feeding the baby, he spoke up with Albus, who was looking at the shelves. They were things the kids had sent for decoration - pictures of the cities they had been, photographies of themselves, trinkets from little shops. Harry and Daphne loved each and every item.

“If you don’t mind me saying, Albus,”, Harry started, as Albus started looking around Ianthe’s room, accidentally making a small toy broom go flying. His son looked at him, and Harry smiled to Ianthe. “, I’m actually really happy that you kids took to Daphne so easily.”

“Well, I knew Arachne from the get-go, so I figured that anyone who raised her couldn’t be a bad person. Luna also had a year to figure that out. James…”

There was a pause, and Harry understood why. James had never been Lilian’s friend as Albus had, more similar to Quidditch rivals, seeking the same position. Perhaps that was why they didn't get along well. It made no sense, though; James always had something nice to speak about Lilian before.

“But…”, Albus continued, as Ianthe slowly started to quieten up. Seems like she had just woken up from a nightmare, after all. She had her mother’s eyes, didn’t she? “But I think he’s easing up on it, dad. I mean, you’re happy, why shouldn’t be, as well? It’s not any of my business...”

There was another pause, and Harry looked at Albus carefully. He never realized kids could mature so fast. Maybe that was what Daphne had felt, years ago?

“I mean, unless you treat mum bad, which then I’m going to protest and hex, but it’s not like you’re going to do that, right, dad?”, Albus hummed, and perhaps he had been spending too much time with Scorpius. Just a hunch. Harry held Ianthe a bit better, and smiled to Albus.

“I’d never. Now let’s go, or else your breakfast is going to get cold,”, Harry replied, going back to his family. Finally, all was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're Done, lads! 30 chapters of this. hope y'all enjoyed it! review if u want tbh. or kudos. whatever ur comfortable w. but thanks for reading so far!


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